The Legacy of Merlin
by Captain Traemel
Summary: UNDER MAJOR REWRITE. AU. It's Harry's sixth year at Hogwart's. Things have changed far more than he ever expected. How is he expected to defeat Voldemort if he can't even figure out his own personal life? HG/HP,GW/DM, SS/OC, RW/LL
1. Cruel Summer

Ships: HP/HG, DM/GW, RW/LL, SB/OC/SS

Blaise Zabini is female in this story.

* * *

It was a beautiful day out. The clear water-blue sky stretched overhead, untainted by fluffy white clouds or other unnecessary trappings of nature. It was a day that seemed far too calm to exist in a world where darkness stalked the land, leaving death and destruction in its wake. This kind of day was far more suited to careless frolicking in the sunshine and waterfights and picnics.

For several young people who bore far too much responsibility for their age, the magnificently sunny day was a balm to their abraded souls. Voldemort was a distant thing – a mere shadow in the shining light of day. It was on this day, less than a week since Hogwarts let out for the summer, that found Draco Malfoy strolling through Hogsmeade with the easy confidence his family was known for. Even though it was only the beginning of the summer, he was feeling restless. His father was in Azkaban, after having been revealed as an active Death Eater in the battle at the Ministry of Magic a few weeks earlier. It mattered little to him. Draco and his father were never really close. He honestly had no real interest in what happened to the senior Malfoy, having always had a very adversarial relationship with him. Lucius Malfoy felt it was his duty to raise his son to be just like him. He often spoke fondly of the days when Draco would join Voldemort's ranks. Draco could have cared less one way or another. He was willing to join the Dark Lord for the power he offered, but would have been just as willing to find his own way.

The absence of his father created a vacuum in Draco's time that had previously been filled with lessons on how to gain and hold his fortune, power, and influence. He decided to take a vacation for once and do whatever he wanted for the summer. His mother was unhappy with his decision, but he knew she could do nothing. She was busy trying to prove she had nothing to do with the death of her dear cousin, Sirius Black. Draco found it amusing.

He looked around, hoping to find something do to. Pansy was gone for the summer and he was finding himself wanting some female companionship. The movement of bushy, brown hair caught his eye. He smirked. Hermione Granger. The Mudblood. She would provide plenty of entertainment for a short while. He carefully scanned the area for Potter. He had no real desire to deal with him right now. Fortunately, he didn't see the Gryffindor nearby. Still smirking, he headed off to intercept Granger.

"Hello, Mudblood."

"Bugger off, Malfoy!"

"Tut tut. Such language. Would your Muggle parents really approve of your rude behaviour?"

"They would if they knew I was dealing with you. Now get lost, Malfoy."

"Hogsmeade is not the easiest town to get lost in, Granger. Unless Potter is giving directions. He's far more familiar with the Muggle world. Perhaps that's why he likes you so much."

Hermione flushed. "Don't talk about Harry like that, Malfoy!"

"Ooh. Struck a nerve, did I?" He moved closer, looking into her defiant eyes. "Tell me, has Potter ever actually done something with a girl besides make her cry?"

"That's none of your business!"

His smirk got wider. "Ah. I guess not. Or at least, not with you. Granger, why do you waste all your time on Potter when there are men like me out there?"

"Because I'd rather date Fluffy than an arrogant prat like you!"

"Tut tut again, Granger. You don't even know me."

"Like she would want to!"

Draco whirled to see whom the voice belonged to. A girl wearing a white, tight-fitting tank top with extremely short green shorts, sandals, and a loose green and white overshirt stood there, holding out her wand. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and delicate tendrils framed her face. Her entire bearing was confident, and her appearance was that of carefully designed indifference.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy."

Briefly, he was speechless. _Who was this girl_? Then it hit him. Weasley! She was the youngest Weasley. He was impressed. She had certainly blossomed into quite the young woman. He looked at her admiringly. Suddenly, he could hear his father's voice reminding him of his place.

"What, are you going to make me, Weaselette? I think the Department of Underaged Wizardry might have something to say about that. You're bluffing."

She shrugged, putting her wand away. "Maybe, but I don't need magic to make you regret messing with us."

"Really. And what are you going to do to me if I do?"

Her foot suddenly lashed out, striking his shin. "The next one won't be so low."

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "You'll pay for that, you little bitch!"

"No, she won't, Malfoy." Draco rolled his eyes as he heard Granger's voice. "Put the wand away and leave. Or you can explain to the Ministry of Magic why you were violating the rules. And why I had to defend my friend. Somehow I doubt your father's influence will get you out of this one."

He frowned at the reminder of his father. "Fine," he snarled, "but you better stay out of my way!"

"As long as you don't accost us outside any more dress boutiques, Malfoy, we will." Ginny smirked at him, her voice sarcastic.

He glanced over at the store they had just exited. Sure enough, it was a dress store. His face darkened in anger. "You'll pay for this, Weasley."

"Oh, I'm so frightened. Hermione, will you please protect me from the incredible bouncing ferret?"

She laughed. "I think I can manage that, Ginny."

Frowning, Draco gave both of them a glare and stalked off.

Both girls watched as Draco Malfoy walked away, limping slightly. Ginny almost felt guilty for kicking him, but then she remembered hearing him call Hermione "Mudblood" and she no longer cared. As they wandered about Hogsmeade, they chatted.

"What was that all about?"

Ginny shook her head. "I have no idea. You'd think he'd have better things to do with his time. Like human sacrifices or something."

"Ginny!"

"What? He's just an evil wanker like his father, destined to wind up mindlessly following Voldemort as one of his Death Eaters. It's pathetic, really. All that money and nothing to do with his time but pick on other people."

Hermione shrugged. "Small people need things to make them feel bigger, I guess. At least, that's what Harry says."

"What Harry says, huh?" Ginny looked closely at her friend. "So has he said anything else profound? Like how much he adores you?"

"Ginny!"

"Oh, like it isn't true! Come on, Hermione. He's got it for you just as badly as you have it for him."

Hermione flushed. "I doubt that. I'm not sure he even sees me as a female."

"He does. You certainly made sure of that at the Yule Ball your fourth year. Believe me. I saw his face when you walked in."

"He didn't even realize it was me!"

"It took him a few seconds, but he did. And boy was he…impressed."

"I'm sure. That's why he spent this past year chasing after Cho Chang."

"Well, I have to point out that he really didn't chase her that terribly hard, and you know things did not end well. Mainly because of you, I must add."

"What?"

"You never heard?" Ginny was surprised. "Hermione, Cho has always blamed you for the fact that she and Harry never got together. I don't think a week went by this past term that she wasn't making some snide comment about you and Harry on Valentine's Day."

"Oh goodness gracious. She's still on about that? It was important!"

"Yes. And Harry never even questioned why he needed to meet you. He just took your word for it and expected Cho to deal with it. I have to say I always wondered about your timing."

"What do you mean?"

"Valentine's Day was the only day you could get Rita Skeeter to come out from under her rock?"

"I…I never really thought about it."

"Obviously. I'm sure Cho did, however."

Hermione frowned. "Oh Ginny, that's terrible! That means it's my fault Harry and Cho didn't work out."

Ginny looked at her friend in disbelief. "Hermione, no! Things didn't work out because she was not what Harry wanted and he would not be what she wanted. I mean, it seemed like the only reason she was interested in hanging out with him was so she could babble about Cedric's death. Which was the last thing Harry wanted to reminisce about."

"Yeah, that was kind of strange. I know she took it hard, but I'm not sure I understand why she wanted to talk with Harry about it all the time. She needed to talk to someone, though. She probably figured he would understand."

"I guess." Ginny paused for a moment, and then looked at her friend slyly. "So what's the deal with you and Viktor?"

Hermione grimaced. "There is no deal with me and Viktor. I stopped writing him right before the end of the year."

"Really? Why?"

"Viktor had a rather large issue with my friendship with Harry, and was always asking these questions about what we were up to. I guess I never really connected it until I realized how I… uh… felt about Harry." She studiously ignored Ginny's knowing nod. "So I told him the long distance relationship thing wasn't working, and asked if we could just be friends." She frowned. "You don't want to know what his last letter said."

Ginny looked at her in disbelief. "You're kidding. He freaked?"

"Oh yes. Ginny, he has a rather interesting temper once you get to know him. He and Cho Chang would probably be perfect for each other."

"At the very least, it would probably satisfy her need to be with someone famous."

Hermione gasped. "You really think that was why she chased after Harry?"

"Definitely. She didn't really seem to like him for who he was, Hermione. What other reason was there? I honestly considered asking him out just to hack her off enough so that she left him alone."

Hermione looked at her in shock.

"What? It would just have been long enough to get her out of his hair."

"I…just wouldn't have thought that of you."

Ginny shrugged. "I'd do a lot to help my friends."

"And hurt your enemies. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to hurt Harry. He would not have handled rejection from both Cho and me well. He already has enough relationship issues as it is."

"What relationship issues?"

"Exactly. What relationship? That boy really needs a girlfriend." She eyed Hermione.

"Ginny!"

"What? You sound like you disagree."

"I…he…I think he's fine without a girlfriend." Hermione hated to admit that the idea of Harry being with another girl really bothered her.

"You mean he's fine without a girlfriend other than you," Ginny observed knowingly.

Hermione blushed. "I did not say that!"

"You don't need to, Hermione. I already know how you feel about him. And so do you. Oh! Look at that!"

Ginny stopped abruptly to look longingly in a store window. It was a jewelry store, and in the center window display was a beautiful set of emerald jewelry. The necklace was a long, silver chain, with an oval emerald pendant. It had matching earrings and a bracelet. The advertisement said the pendant could be engraved with any image. The one in the display had a dragon carved into it. "Oh look, Hermione, isn't that beautiful?"

Hermione came over and joined her at the window. "I guess so. You know I'm not big on green. Especially not green and silver."

Ginny pointed to the card. "It comes in any birthstone. You could get a sapphire one."

Hermione snorted. "Right, me and what treasure trove? Come on, Ginny. Let's move on. We can't afford it."

"Maybe not, but we can try one on!" Ginny quickly walked into the store before Hermione could protest. Sighing in resignation, she followed.

The store was one of the finest stores in Hogsmeade. It had rich, oak floors covered in thick red carpets. Display cases were arranged around the room, and a large chandelier hung from the arched ceiling providing light. Everywhere the girls looked they could see the sparkle of silver, gold, and gems.

A middle-aged woman in an impeccable grey suit approached them from up the stairs. She was of medium height, but wore a pair of black high heels making her taller than both girls. Her black hair was laced with silver, and pulled back into a tight bun held in place by a silver comb. Rings decorated her hands, and her face immediately conveyed distaste for her newest customers.

"May I help you?" she asked condescendingly.

Hermione hesitated, but Ginny stepped boldly forward and looked the sales woman in the eye. "Yes, we were interested in taking a closer look at the jewelry set in the window display. The one with the oval pendant."

"I see." She looked down her nose at the Gryffindor. "Are you sure you are in the right store?"

Ginny smiled. Her face was just as condescending as the woman before her. "I assure you, I am exactly where I want to be."

The woman frowned, and then abruptly turned. "Follow me." She led the two girls over to a small table with a mirror. She gestured for them to have a seat, and then stepped behind the counter. "Did you perhaps have a stone preference, Madam?"

Ginny smiled. "I would like to look at the emerald set in the window. My friend would like to see a sapphire one."

The saleswoman stepped in back.

"Ginny!" Hermione whispered. "Are you crazy? We can't afford those!"

The red haired girl shrugged. "So? What's wrong with us trying them on? I want to see what they look like on us."

"But…"

The older woman appeared carrying two small jewelry boxes. She marched over to where the girls sat, and set a green box in front of Ginny and a blue one in front of Hermione. "There you are, my dears. Do you need further assistance? I have a client waiting upstairs."

They shook their heads. "Very well. Once you finish trying the sets on, place them back in the boxes and I will come down and put them away. I must emphasize that they have been magicked against theft."

Ginny gazed at her coldly. "I appreciate the warning, however unnecessary it may be."

The woman swallowed uncomfortably and headed up the stairs.

"I wonder who's up there," said Hermione.

"Probably someone like Malfoy. Too rich to know what to do with themselves."

Hermione snickered. "Okay, let's try these on."

Meanwhile upstairs, while the saleswoman waited on her new customers, Draco Malfoy waited with ill-disguised impatience. When the bell rang announcing a new customer, he had graciously permitted her to run downstairs to meet whoever it was. He put his feet up on her desk and stared off into space, thinking about the events earlier in the day.

His shin still hurt from where Ginny kicked. He involuntarily smiled at the thought. She had really surprised him. He remembered Ginny Weasley as the shy, mousy girl that followed Potter around like a lost puppy. Her innocence was enough to make anyone sick. But now was a different story. She had really grown up to be quite the firebrand. The way her brown eyes flashed with anger while she defended that Mudblood Granger captivated him. He hated to admit that he found her attractive. His skin crawled at the thought of feeling that way about a Weasley. He could almost hear his father admonishing him to remember who he was.

His ears perked at the voices downstairs. They sounded familiar. Moving silently, he crept over to the balcony and looked over, making sure he wasn't seen. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Weasley and Granger were downstairs. _What the bloody hell do they think they're doing,_ he wondered. _Neither of them can afford a single thing in this place. _ He watched while the saleswoman went to the back and brought out two jewelry cases. Draco almost laughed out loud when Ginny told the saleswoman off. She headed back upstairs, but Draco found himself interested in what the two girls were doing. He motioned for her to be silent.

Ginny opened the box and gasped. The necklace was even more beautiful than it looked in the window. She carefully picked it up and placed it around her neck. She put on the earrings and bracelet, and then looked in the mirror. She liked what she saw. Twirling around, she admired her reflection for a few moments. Then reality returned. Her face fell as she realized Hermione was correct. They would never be able to afford the jewelry. She liked the way it looked, however. The pendant she wore had the dragon carving on it, which made her smile in amusement. The encounter with Draco Malfoy was still very fresh in her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, she found him attractive. If he weren't such a git, she would be first in line trying to get his attention. _But he's a bloody prat,_ she thought. _Too bad._

Hermione joined her at the mirror. She looked stunning in her set. Ginny smiled. She was planning on telling Harry about the jewelry if Hermione liked it. Harry had told her sometime back that he had a considerable amount of money. He wanted to get her something for her birthday this summer that was not a book. He would love this.

"So, what do you think?"

Ginny's smile grew wider. "You look beautiful, Hermione. Harry would love that, you know."

Hermione blushed. "Ginny! Stop saying stuff like that!"

Ginny laughed. "Oh come on. Like you weren't thinking about it."

The older girl hesitated. "You really think he'd like it?" she whispered shyly.

"Definitely. I think his eyes would bug out like they did at the Yule Ball two years ago."

Hermione's blush grew deeper.

"Come on, Hermione! Admit it. You're in love with the fool!"

"Shh! Don't say that! Someone might hear you!"

"Oh, like the Ice Queen upstairs?" Hermione glared at her. "Okay, fine, fine, I'll stop. Oh, so what do you think?"

"It looks like you were born to wear that, Ginny."

She laughed. "Yeah. A Weasley born to wear emeralds." She sighed. "Come on! This place is boring. Let's go get some chocolate!"

The two girls quickly replaced the jewelry and closed the boxes. They glanced upstairs, causing Draco to quickly duck into the shadows. Not seeing anyone, they made sure the boxes were safely on one of the counters and left.

Draco moved back out into the room and eyed the saleswoman cowering near the stairs.

"Your other guests have left, Lucille. The merchandise is on the counter. You can go put it away if you wish." He made sure his voice was cold and emotionless.

She nodded, turning to head downstairs. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Impulsively, he stopped her. "Lucille, those jewelry sets are one of a kind, are they not?"

"Each is uniquely made, Mr. Malfoy. But we have five sets of each birthstone."

"How many of the emerald and sapphire do you have left?"

"I believe there are 3 emerald, but that was the last sapphire."

He nodded. "Good. I will take both sets."

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy." She hesitated. "Did you want a specific carving on the sets, sir?"

"What is on them now?"

"The sapphire one is blank, but the emerald one the girl tried on has a dragon on it."

He smirked. "Perfect."

Draco wasn't completely sure what he was going to do with the two sets, but he figured he could use them at some point. Perhaps to get Potter to do something for him. Or Weasley. He could definitely get Weasley to do something for him. He had seen how much she wanted the jewelry. Even he had to admit it looked stunning on her. And Potter would do anything for the Mudblood, despite the fact he wouldn't admit it.

Lucille returned with the two sets, and Draco paid for them after completing the business that originally brought him to the store. Satisfied, he left, idly wondering if he was going to see the girls any more today.

Ginny and Hermione headed upstairs to the youngest Weasley's room after their return from Hogsmeade. Both girls had managed to find a few things to purchase, and wanted to go upstairs and try them on while they chatted about 'girl stuff.' Hermione was always amazed at her friend's room. She was the only Weasley with a room to herself and took great pleasure in enjoying the space. It was a very feminine room, overwhelmingly pink with lots of frilly decorations. Ginny's mother had chosen the decorations years ago – Ginny sometimes wished for something else – but she admitted the color scheme was a small price to pay for her privacy. Pink guaranteed the boys would never steal her covers or pillows.

The girls set their packages by the door and dropped exhaustedly onto the bed. The two Gryffindors stared into space for a few minutes before Ginny decided to break the silence and continue their conversation.

"So as I was saying, I have no doubt in my mind that he likes you. Bloody hell, Hermione, he loves you. I don't understand what the problem is!"

"How can you say he loves me, Ginny?" Hermione sat up, glaring at her friend in exasperation. "He spent all bloody last year chasing after Cho Chang! He was practically worshiping the ground she walked on! How is it possible to infer that he loves me?"

"That's easy, Hermione. He put you first. Above Cho. You know, the girl he was dating? Perhaps I should again remind again you of Valentine's Day. Besides, you spent the year writing Viktor yet you still love him! What's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference! And I really don't need to be reminded about Valentine's Day. I already feel bad enough as it is! I never meant to come between them…"

"Are you sure?"

Ginny's soft words took a moment to penetrate into Hermione's conscious. "Wha…what do you mean?"

"I mean, Hermione, are you sure you didn't choose the date on purpose?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment as she considered. Finally, she sighed, bowing her head in defeat. "I… maybe I did. I guess I just… didn't like the idea of Harry and Cho…"

Ginny took her hand. "Hermione. I understand. Believe me. I didn't like the idea of Harry and Cho, and I've been over him for years."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely. Harry is like a brother to me now. He and I just weren't meant to be anything else. You and Harry, on the other hand…" Ginny stood up and went to the window. "The thing is, Hermione, the time is rapidly approaching when you will need to make a choice of what you are going to do about your feelings for him. I chose to let go, but I wasn't in love with him. It was a crush – strong, but a crush nonetheless. What you feel for him is different. You love him." She turned to look at her friend. "Are you going to let him go, and watch as he moves on to be with someone else? No? I didn't think so. The look on your face tells me everything I need to know. You want to be with him, and I sure as hell know he wants to be with you. So get it together and tell him how you feel!"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that easy, Ginny. I value my friendship with him more than anything. I have no desire to risk losing it." She held up her hand for silence. "No, Ginny, let me finish. Yes, I love him, but I can't face the idea that I will lose him if things don't work out between us. Can you imagine what it would be like to get together with him only to lose him completely after some major fight?"

The red haired girl looked at Hermione skeptically. "Oh, yeah. That's going to happen. Bloody hell, Hermione! This is not Ron we're talking about. It's Harry! You know, Harry Never-gets-pissed-off-unless-someone-dies Potter? I can't possibly imagine a world where you and Harry have some horrible fight that destroys your relationship forever. You are far more likely to get into one of those with my brother!"

"True." The dark-haired Gryffindor sighed. "But what about how it will affect our friendship? Things will become uncomfortable. We'll no longer be just Harry and Hermione, friends. Instead we'll be boyfriend and girlfriend. With all the awkward things that go along with it. A single word could destroy anything! Is it really worth the risk?"

"Yes." Ginny caught Hermione's eyes and looked at her very seriously. "Yes, Hermione, it's worth it. Love is worth any risk. It is the greatest experience a person could ever have and if you get the chance you should not let it pass you by!" She was silent for a moment, and then her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "You're afraid! Aren't you? You're afraid of the risk. You're afraid of being hurt. That Harry will not return your affection or will lose interest…"

Hermione stood up and walked over to the window. "Of course I am, Ginny! How could I not be? He's Harry Bloody Potter. The Boy Who Lived! Saviour of the Wizarding world! He can have any girl he could possibly want. Why would he want to be with plain old Hermione Granger? And even if he does care for me, how can I expect him to do so forever? Ginny, there are only so many girls at Hogwarts. Once we graduate, he'll be meeting women as beautiful as Cho Chang who are also good at magic like I am. How can I compete with that?"

Ginny spoke softly. "You sell yourself short. He sees you through the eyes of love, Hermione. That makes you the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Do you honestly think he'll just tell you to bugger off while he goes and shacks up with Miss Beautiful? I thought you knew him better than that! Harry would never do that. Especially to you."

The room was silent for a moment as both girls were lost in thought.

"I know he wouldn't, Ginny, but I also know that he doesn't see me as anything more than a friend. Why is it that just because a girl happens to have a male best friend they are suddenly dating? Yes, I like Harry. Hell, I love him. But I'm not going to be the one to risk our friendship on a dream that every bloody girl in the Wizarding world has had since our first year. What we have is far better than a fleeting wish for something more." She looked over at Ginny, her expression very serious. "Ginny, if I thought there was a chance we would last, I would write a letter right now and tell Harry how I feel. But I see how he looks at me. It's the same way he looks at you. As a friend." She smiled sadly. "I wish things could be different, but they're not. And I for one am not going to spend my life regretting it." Hermione sat down and picked up one of the books she had purchased in Hogsmeade, signifying that the conversation was at an end.

"That's where you're wrong, Hermione. You will spend your life regretting it," Ginny said softly. "Both of you will. Bloody idiots."

Ginny gazed at her for a moment, and then picked up a book herself. She stared off into space, not really seeing the pages, and thought. She decided that Hermione was not going to do anything about her feelings for Harry, so the next step was to get Harry to tell Hermione how he felt. The young Gryffindor mused that he would be a much harder nut to crack. He had many reasons for not showing his feelings, and Ginny got the feeling that some of them had to do with the battle in the Ministry of Magic at the end of last year. Sirius' death probably emphasized to Harry how people near him were in danger. There was no way he would risk putting Hermione in danger. She felt like screaming in frustration. Neither of them seemed particularly promising as far as the situation was concerned. She'd ask Ron to help but she was fully well aware of his feelings for Hermione. He wasn't in love with her, but he thought he was. _ It's a good thing she's going away to France for a few weeks_, she thought. _Maybe I can get some things cleared up before she comes to stay with us for the rest of the summer._

Satisfied she had at least a partial plan for helping the situation, she turned her attention back to her book.

A week after Hermione left for France, Harry Potter found himself gazing wistfully out the window. It was a beautiful day for a change, blue sky with a few fluffy white clouds propelled across the sky by a slight breeze. The day called to him, whispering that he should take advantage of his gift of freedom. He knew he was free to go outside, but it was still something he was struggling to get used to. Ever since Alastor Moody and the others stood up to Vernon for him, he had been given more freedom than any previous summer. He and Dudley called a truce, since the Muggle boy was afraid of Harry's benefactors, and both had gone their separate directions all summer. Unfortunately, thanks to the Dursleys, Harry's new-found liberty was meaningless since no one in the neighborhood would associate with him. The only person that had not been informed of his misbehaviour was the new lady across the street.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had a number of speculations about the woman, most of them involving a career that required a great deal of travel. Petunia tried to visit her shortly after he returned to Hogwarts last year only to find her already gone. Dudley took the opportunity to investigate her backyard and found what he described as "tonnes" of rose bushes and a porch swing. The curtains were drawn so he couldn't see in, but that didn't stop him from speculating about her. Harry brushed it off as unimportant, thinking that anything occupying his cousin besides him was a good thing.

Now he was back at the Dursleys and found himself wondering if there was finally someone in the neighborhood he could talk with. Mrs. Figg was off on some mysterious errand for the Order and was not around for him to visit. He wondered who was taking care of her cats.

"Harry?" The ring on his hand buzzed as Hermione's voice sounded in his head.

"What is it, 'Mione?"

"What are you up to? Is everything okay? I hope those horrible people are leaving you alone this summer!"

He grinned. That was his Hermione. Ever the worry-wart. "Okay, let me see if I can answer these in order… I'm looking out the window wishing I had someone to chat with. Everything is fine, if a bit lonely, and yes, the Dursleys are leaving me alone. Uncle Vernon and Dudley have been avoiding me as much as possible for the past week. How's Paris?"

"Oh it's wonderful, Harry! Mum and dad are letting me stay with my cousin Veronica. She's been taking me to all the stores she frequents. Oh Merlin, does that girl like to shop! I got a few nice things for myself, though. If we have a ball next year, I'll be prepared."

Harry felt a smile on his face at the thought of Hermione dressed up. He remembered how beautiful she was their fourth year. By the stars was he an idiot. "Does this mean that the infamous know-it-all of Hogwarts has discovered her feminine side? Merlin forbid!"

"Harry James Potter! I'm quite in touch with my feminine side, thank you very much! I just have different priorities at school. I'm not Lavender Brown."

"I know, 'Mione. I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "That's okay, Harry. I know it's hard for you and Ron to see me as anything but your best friend. So why aren't you outside or something? Is it raining?"

"No. I just don't feel like walking around and watching the curtains close as I pass the houses. Everyone on this bloody block is completely convinced I'm some sort of criminal."

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! Well, if it makes you feel better, Ginny mentioned that they'd be coming to get you soon. I'll be in France until the end of the month, but I will be back in time for your birthday."

He didn't try to stop the grin that came to his face. "That'll be great, 'Mione! Then you, me, Ron, and Ginny can all hang out at the Burrow for the rest of the summer!"

"Until then, Harry, you should get out some. Didn't you mention you got a new neighbor last year?"

"Yeah. No one knows who she is. She left before Aunt Petunia got the chance to corner her and tell her the dark and sordid tales of my life."

"Harry!"

"It's true, 'Mione. She was drooling at the opportunity to tell someone else about my criminal background. That and I think Uncle Vernon wanted to invite her over to impress her with the immensity of the house."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"I don't know. It's a status thing or something. You know how he's been since he got that promotion last year."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about that. You should go talk to her. Get to her before your Aunt does. Who knows, maybe she's like Mrs. Figg."

"Maybe."

"Oh! Well, Harry, I have to go. Pierre is back and we're going to some place called Magie de Danse. I think it's some sort of wizard dance club. I'll tell you all about later, Harry. Au revoir mon chéri."

Harry glared at his ring as the connection was cut. Where was she going? Mag-what du dance? Bloody hell. He really needed to learn some French. Who was Pierre? And why was he taking Hermione dancing? In Paris. The city of love.

Oh dear Merlin.

The surge of jealousy he felt at the thought was almost overpowering. How could she go dancing with some other guy? What about him? Didn't she care about how he felt? How he felt. How did he feel? His emotions roiled within him, uncertainty clashing with an unknown emotion. The flickering of the lights in his room reflected the chaos in his head. Flickering lights? That caught his attention and he looked around curiously. What the hell? The lights returned to normal, but Uncle Vernon's voice could be heard downstairs, cursing the electric company. Aunt Petunia was in the background screeching about her soufflé. He shook his head. It was daylight. The only one he had even a minor bit of sympathy for was his Aunt, who no doubt had spent the past few hours trying to make the perfect soufflé. Uncle Vernon could read his bloody paper near a window. Bloody hell. He really did need to get out of the house. He thought back to Hermione's suggestion. Perhaps she was right. How bad could it be anyway? If she hated him, he'd be no worse off than he was now.

There was little known about the mysterious woman across the street. She had moved in at the end of his fourth year, but was very reclusive. Harry had seen her briefly working in her garden on a few occasions, but had not gotten a good look at her. He knew she had dark hair, but nothing more specific. Almost overnight nearly a dozen rosebushes had sprung up in the front yard and the lawn took on a very well-cared-for appearance. So much so that Uncle Vernon had him out trimming the grass the next day. Despite all her gardening habits, however, it seemed she spent a great deal of time indoors. He imagined she was doing something very important. Perhaps she was a writer. Aunt Petunia had hoped to meet her and warned him against any disturbances. Uncle Vernon was far more specific. He threatened to throw Harry out onto the street should he bring unwanted attention to himself even once during the summer.

After Moody came and rescued him from the Dursleys after the Dementor incident, he had ceased to think of her. According to his aunt, she stayed for the rest of the summer then closed up the house for the duration of the year. No one knew where she went, but she had returned by the time Harry got back from Hogwarts. Petunia was determined to make her acquaintance before she left again.

He was curious enough to want to meet her, and had no desire to listen to the Dursleys regale yet another neighbor with tales of his years at St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. It was bad enough the rest of the neighborhood thought he was a hoodlum. He didn't want the next occupant of the house across the street being driven away by his Uncle's lies. Perhaps he might be able to mention something to Arthur Weasley the next time he called.

Harry sighed as he absently played with a feather Hedwig shed this morning. They all tried so hard to make him feel better, but the reality was that no one really could. The knowledge that he was responsible for his godfather's death weighed heavily upon him and no one could really comfort him about that. Hermione tried before she left, but he just couldn't talk about it. Now everyone just left him alone and he honestly preferred it that way. He really didn't want to think about the death of his godfather or the responsibility placed upon him by the bloody prophecy. None of them could ever understand what it meant. Not even his best friends.

Motion caught his eye as the front door of the neighboring house opened and a young woman stepped out into the sun. It appeared he was finally going to get a good look at his mysterious neighbor. Her dark hair shined in the bright light, making it look as if a thousand stars sparkled within its midnight depths. The long mass was gathered in a single tail reaching halfway down her back, and he could see the glitter of gold at the nape of her neck where it was bound. She wore blue jeans and a ruffled violet blouse under a vest embroidered with small blue flowers. Her ivory skin indicated to him that he was right about her being a bit of an indoor type, but the pail of gardening tools she brought with her argued otherwise. Her eyes did a quick scan of the area, stopping briefly on the Dursleys house before continuing down the block. Harry was surprised when her amethyst eyes met his. They were a startling shade of violet, similar to the color of her blouse, and seemed to hold within their depths great wisdom and intellect, overlaid by a sense of joy and wonder. For the first time in weeks, he felt himself cheering up and decided to go down and introduce himself.

Ryselle Spellsinger stepped out into the sunlight feeling happy to be home at last. The past year had been hectic with all the tasks her grandfather set her, but it was worth it to finally be finished with her training. Now she was ready to join the Ministry. She purchased the house last year in preparation for it, after Albus Dumbledore suggested she might find the neighborhood to her liking. She was glad she did. It was a small house – robin's egg blue siding with white accents surrounded by a post stamp yard – but it was hers. The garden in front, one of the reasons she decided to live there, needed a great deal of work to help it recover from almost a year of neglect. She didn't even want to think about the time it would take her to repair her rose bushes. She smiled wryly at the idea of her spending the day trimming roses instead of unpacking the boxes piled in her extra bedroom. It had been in disarray for about a year now, but the traveling she had done was necessary to the completion of her training. Now that she was done, she would have a lot more time to unpack. And to make repairs to the rosebushes. _Priorities_, she thought, _grandfather always says I need to have priorities._ Carrying the pail of garden tools over to the first bush near the house, Ryselle reflected that the next few months were going to be very interesting.

Last summer, her grandfather's old friend Albus Dumbledore showed up on their doorstep with the request that Ryselle come back to England with him for a few months. He had no idea that she had already been making plans to move to England to join the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, but was delighted when he found out. She remembered Dumbledore fondly as a cheery wizard who always gave her candy. He was like an uncle to her, along with several of her grandfather's other friends. She was nine years old the last time she saw him, and kept him in her mind during the years she was with her grandfather. Part of her always wished he would come back and entertain her with more stories of his youth. As she grew up, she thought of him with fondness and made plans to look him up when she got to England. When he requested that she alter her plans a bit to look after Harry Potter for the summer, there was no reason for her to say no and every reason for her to agree. She wanted to fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. What better way to begin that by guarding his archenemy?

She agreed, with the condition that she be free to complete the final phase of her training after Harry went away to school. It had been an odd summer, culminating with the attack upon Harry by a Dementor, and her introduction to Sirius Black.

She felt a tearing pain in her heart at the thought of him. Last year they had met while she was taking her turn as Harry's guardian for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore had not officially made her a member, since she had yet to be free to commit herself to a cause, but planned on doing so once she was available. He informed her that she might see a large, black dog lurking about the property and assured her that it was only Harry's godfather, the notorious criminal Sirius Black, who was no more responsible for the deaths of Harry's parents than she was. She was interested in the story behind his statement, but was given no further information.

That was probably why she decided to go meet him after the second time she saw him at the Dursley's. She wanted to take the measure of the man the Ministry accused of being in league with Voldemort and was supposedly responsible for one of the worst Muggle killings in history.

Ryselle savagely clipped off a branch at the thought of the evil wizard. There was no way he was going to get past her and to Harry or those relatives of his. She swore to protect him and she would. That was one of the reasons she decided to buy this house when she saw it was up for sale. It was perfect. Right across the street from the Dursleys, it would enable her to watch what was going on and make sure Harry remained safe and hidden from the eyes of Voldemort's servants. Dumbedore suspected he had eyes all over the Wizarding world, including in the Ministry, so no one he did not trust found out about Harry's location. Ryselle was glad he trusted her.

A shadow crossed her vision as someone approached the fence. She shaded her eyes and looked up. To her surprise, she recognized the young man as Harry Potter himself. He looked a bit uncertain, and perhaps slightly afraid of the reception he would get from her. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jean shorts, which were torn in places and well-worn. Messy dark hair fell into eyes that gazed at her, owl like, from behind his round spectacles. He wore a white t-shirt and tattered running shoes. Except for the depressed slump of his shoulders, Ryselle would have thought him simply a young Muggle man out for a summer walk during the school break.

He stopped near the fence and studied her for a moment. "You might want to wear a hat." His voice was hesitant, as if he expected some sort of rejection.

Her lips curved into a friendly smile. "You are no doubt correct. I am not used to being out in the open like this. I am afraid I left it inside." She stood up, holding out her hand. "Ryselle Spellsinger. Your neighbor."

He returned the smile, thinking her musical voice was well suited to the exotic accent. "Harry Potter, ma'am. Pleased to meet you." Her grip was firm but gentle.

"Please, call me Ryselle. I do not believe I have the age to qualify for ma'am yet."

Taking in her appearance with a glance, Harry silently agreed with her. She was younger than he originally thought. He would estimate her age about the same as Ron's brother Charlie. "Well then, Ryselle, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Harry. I was hoping to meet someone today. I've been here for a year and have yet to see anyone. Are they always so…antisocial?"

He chuckled. "Aunt Petunia will probably be over with a fruitcake sometime within the next few days. She's been waiting for an appropriate time. She came over at the end of last summer, but there was no one home."

"Ah, yes, she must have just missed me. I had some traveling to do. I spent most of the year in hotels and with friends. It was well worth it, however." Her eyes twinkled with merriment.

"Do you sell things?"

"What? Oh! No, Harry. I do not sell things. I was studying for the last phase of my wizard training. My master wanted me to explore the magical places of Europe and discover the truth of their secrets."

Harry was surprised to find she was a witch, and then her unusual last name registered. How could she be anything else? "Wow. That must have been interesting. You were in school then?"

She shook her head. "No, I did not go to a school. My grandfather taught me magic."

"Why did you call him master?"

"Tradition. He is a bit of an old fashioned wizard."

Harry sat down next to her and watched while she worked with her roses. "You know, it's nice to have a Wizarding neighbor here. Almost everyone else is a Muggle. Not that it's a bad thing, but sometimes it's nice to have someone to relate to."

Ryselle chuckled. "I imagine so. Well, Harry, you can feel free to come over to discuss magic any time you want. As a matter of fact, would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade? The lack of a hat has made me parched with thirst."

He hesitated for a moment, considering. When had the Dursley's ever been concerned about his whereabouts? Ryselle seemed nice, and she wasn't sporting the Dark Mark on her left arm ,so it was doubtful she was a threat to him. Dumbledore swore he would be safe with his Aunt and Uncle. He had to believe that or he would go insane. Plastering a grin on his face, he nodded.

"I'd love to."

Once inside the small house, it took Harry's eyes a moment to adjust to the change in light. The house was dim, but he could see the interior was a warm, friendly place appearing to have two bedrooms accessible by a short hallway off the living area. The kitchen was very small as well, having room for a single person. It opened up into a dining alcove surrounded by a large bay window.

He noticed Ryselle's taste in décor was eclectic. Bookshelves lined the walls of the living room, where a single sofa, chair, and loveseat rested on a large Persian carpet. The end tables and coffee table were a warm oak decorated with small golden lamps shaped like dragons. A fireplace was set into the far wall, and the shelf above it held several figurines of dragons, wizards, and a castle. A gilded mirror hung above it. The room was neat, and the only thing appearing out of place was a book lying in the chair. A single door was in the back wall, leading to the back yard, guessed Harry.

The first bedroom was full of boxes crammed together leaving only a short path to the door. It appeared as if she were in the midst of assembling another bookshelf on one side of the room. There was furniture underneath the boxes, fresh from the store if the plastic was any indication. The house was small – quite a bit smaller than the Dursley's, which always gave Uncle Vernon a thrill – but cozy. She had already laid another oriental rug on the floor of the room. He couldn't make out the design underneath all the boxes, but it appeared to be a simple one done in several shades of red, blue, and violet. He guessed it was similar to the one in the living room. Down the short hallway was the master bedroom, which he guessed was the most complete room of the house outside the kitchen and bathroom. There was an oriental rug there too, and he saw the flash of a maroon comforter on the four-post bed.

Harry followed his host into the small kitchen, where he could see several gleaming Muggle appliances already set on the counters for easy cooking. She had a microwave, blender, and toaster visible, plus assorted containers for staples such as sugar and flour. A large spice rack hung on the wall over the stove, and appeared to be full of freshly prepared spices labeled in a fine hand. He wondered if she preserved them herself.

There was small breakfast nook with a round, maple wood table and four chairs in front of the bay window across from the Dursley's house. He saw Dudley saunter out the door with a satisfied smirk on his face, then turn to join the rest of his gang. Harry had a bad feeling he was in for a hard time when he went back to the Dursleys. Whenever his cousin was happy, it boded ill for him. Ryselle gestured for him to have a seat while she prepared fresh lemonade for the two of them. He had to fight back tears at the thought of his godfather reminiscing about his mother's lemonade.

Ryselle watched Harry out of the corner of her eye and felt a surge of sadness when she saw the curious look on his face turn to grief. He must be thinking about his godfather. She knew how he felt. Sirius' death affected her far more than she ever imagined. It never occurred to her she would not have the chance to tell him how she felt. She hated herself for hiding her feelings from him and losing the opportunity to be with him for even a short while. Her heart bled for the young man and his godfather and for the time they would never have together. She hoped she might be of some help to him this summer.

She suppressed the impulse to use magic to transport the lemonade to the table, keeping in mind Dumbledore's admonition that she keep her magical usage to a minimum, and chose instead to carry the two glasses after placing the pitcher in the refrigerator. Harry started as he set the glass in front of him.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

He savagely bit down on the emotions surging within him, determined to enjoy this summer and the company of the nice lady in front of him. "I…uh…I'm fine. Sorry. Just…thinking about something."

Since he looked like he was not ready to talk about it, Ryselle held her peace and turned the topic to more harmless matters. The day passed easily into evening before they knew it. Harry felt his stomach growl and was startled to see it was near sunset. The time had passed quickly in the company of his new neighbor, and he found himself reluctant to return to the Dursleys. He knew they would not have a great deal of concern for his whereabouts, but would not appreciate the inconvenience of his coming in late without dinner. He had little choice in the matter, however, and was determined not to regret the first day of enjoyment he experienced in months.

He stood up. "I need to get home, Ryselle, but I really appreciate the opportunity to come over and talk."

"Thank you for coming over, Harry. I enjoyed it." She thought for a moment. "I imagine your family has already eaten dinner. I should have thought of that earlier. Would you like me to make you something to take home?"

He was smiling before he realized it. "That would…be very nice, Ryselle. I know my Aunt will be glad I've eaten." _Not to mention the fact that the food will be much better,_ he thought.

She quickly fixed two sandwiches for him and put them in a bag with potato chips and a large biscuit for him to take back. He grinned appreciatively at the biscuit, and waved farewell before he could find another excuse to stay. The summer was shaping up to be a lot better than he expected. Hermione would be glad to hear it.

Ryselle watched as Harry made his way back to the house and stopped watching him only after he was inside. She hoped he didn't notice the small dribble of Tracing Potion she put on his sandwiches. Her instincts told her she would need it sometime in the future, and she always trusted them.

Satisfied she made a friend out of the young man, she set out to begin unpacking and putting the house in order. She hoped he would come over again. He was everything Sirius had said and more. It was obvious to her he did not enjoy being over at his Aunt and Uncle's place, so she was determined to offer him refuge whenever he needed it. It was the least she could do for the godson of the man she loved.


	2. Love Hurts

Thanks for reading, everyone. Just a reminder – not HBP compliant.

Cheers to Vaughn for being an awesome beta!

* * *

Three weeks into the summer, Fred, George, and Ron Weasley came to fetch Harry from the Dursley's. Vernon was thrilled to see him go, and made sure to help him out the door as quickly as possible. Harry was more than happy to leave, and piled his things into the Weasley's car for the trip to the Burrow.

The trip was fairly long, as the car had not yet been enchanted to fly, and Harry spent a good part of the trip staring moodily out the window. Ron knew him well enough to know he had a lot on his mind, and decided to leave him alone for a change. Besides, he had a lot to think about himself. Ron had come to the conclusion that he had developed serious feelings for Hermione. The problem was, he didn't think she returned his interest. This past year, he had watched her a lot, and what he saw disturbed him. He felt like a git for not realizing it earlier.

Ron knew Harry and Hermione were best friends, like him and Harry and him and Hermione. The Dream Team as they were called – three best friends that did everything together. Only things had changed as of late, and Ron reluctantly had to admit some of it was his doing. Deep down, he had known Harry would never put his own name in the Goblet of Fire, but he had been having problems dealing with the fact that people referred to him as Harry's sidekick. It wasn't Harry's fault. Ron knew he didn't see his friend that way. But it had bothered him nonetheless, and he lashed out at Harry in response. He regretted the fact that he had allowed his ego to start getting in the way of their friendship, but he hadn't realized he was doing it until his sister pointed it out to him.

It was around the same time he came to a realization on his own: Harry and Hermione loved each other. It never occurred to him that his major competition would be his best friend. When it did, he felt angry with Harry for once again coming out on top. But after the battle in the Ministry of Magic, Ron found himself unable to continue to resent Harry's obvious feelings for Hermione. He thought about all the times they had spent together, and remembered that it had always been Harry who had been there for her.

Their first year, Harry was the one that thought of her being in the girl's lavatory after Ron's thoughtless comment had made her cry. Harry was the reason they charged to her rescue. Their second year, Harry was the one constantly by her side after she had been petrified, holding her hand and trying to figure out how to save everyone. Ron remembered how Harry's face had lit up when Neville pointed out Hermione was back, and how she threw herself into his arms upon seeing him. Ron had been uncomfortable at the time, and had not known how to react. The third year was hard on them all, due to Hermione's efforts to protect Harry from his godfather. But at the end they had stood together, as always, to rescue him once they found out he was innocent of his crimes. Ron privately admitted he had been a prat to her about her cat, and didn't blame her for being angry with him. The fourth year was the hardest. Ron had gotten angry with Harry, and it hadn't helped matters that Hermione stood by him once again. By that point, Ron had come to realize he liked her, and had been jealous of Harry and anyone else that got near her. Probably the only reason Ron had not completely pushed Harry away was because he did not seem interested in anyone but Cho. Ron always felt she was wrong for Harry, but wanted them to get together so he could get with Hermione.

That wish ended along with their fifth year.

Ron began to notice during the summer that Hermione spent a great deal of time around Harry, and throughout the year she kept finding reasons to spend time with him. Take Christmas for example. Her family was skiing, yet she left early to come spend time with Harry at Grimmauld Place. She hadn't even allowed the snow to melt from her hair before she was upstairs with Harry. The end of the year only served to prove to Ron, and everyone else, how much his two best friends cared for each other. Anyone watching them in the Ministry of Magic would immediately think they were partners of some sort. They way they protected each other gave the impression that they cared very deeply for one other. Ron had heard how Harry reacted when Hermione had been injured. He hadn't witnessed it, and even he could still tell it meant a lot more than concern over a friend. He knew Harry blamed himself for Sirius' death and Hermione getting hurt. He also knew his friend had a tendency to close himself off in hopes of protecting his friends. Hermione seemed to be the only person that could truly break through to him. Sure, Ron could make Harry laugh and forget his problems for a while, but Hermione helped him solve them.

Ron sighed. Combine all the evidence together and there was only one conclusion he could come to. Harry and Hermione loved each other, and Ron was never going to have a chance with her. The thought hurt a lot less than he expected it to. It was probably because he cared for them both so much. And he wanted very badly for Harry to find some form of happiness in his life. Ron wished he could have turned that Umbridge woman into a toad for all that she did to him last year. Harry had been miserable, it was easy for anyone to see, and the "High Inquisitor" was a large factor into it.

Ron wasn't sure how he would handle a romance between his two best friends. But he did know that he owed it to them to support them if it came to pass. Ron could see the possibility of other women in his life, but Harry was the type of person that fell in love for a lifetime. Seeing them almost made him believe in the existence of soulmates. Looking over at Harry, he could see the lines of sadness etched on his face, and the pain behind his eyes. Ron knew it would go away if Hermione suddenly showed up to visit him. She was one of the few people he relaxed around, and if her behaviour was any indication, the feeling was mutual.

Ron continued to think about the possibilities as they rode to the Burrow, leaving Harry alone to do his own thinking.

Harry stared pensively out of the window trying to figure out why he wasn't happier. He was away from his Muggle relatives, and on his way to his best friend's house. Why shouldn't he be happy? _Because it's not the best friend I want to be with_, he thought. Harry squirmed uncomfortably at the thought. He knew Ron had feelings for Hermione, and did his best to studiously ignore the feelings of jealousy he had at the thought. Last year had been very strange for him. He was attracted to Cho Chang. Hermione was corresponding long distance with Viktor Krum, and he thought there was no problem with either situation. But while he was attracted to Cho, he freely admitted that part of his mind kept comparing her to Hermione. When they kissed, he had been ecstatic, but there was a small part of him that was disappointed. He had no idea why at the time. Then came the fateful date on Valentine's Day, where he proved to Cho where his priorities lay, and he had to admit he was not terribly heartbroken by her rejection.

The battle in the Ministry of Magic was what changed things for Harry. He still had nightmares about Hermione and Ron being injured, but mostly Hermione. His heart almost shattered in his chest when he saw her lying there, and it was all he could do to maintain his composure. He remembered back to the past five years, and noticed a pattern. Hermione was always there in his thoughts. From the time they rescued her from the troll to the battle in the Ministry, he always thought of her as a constant in his life. It never occurred to him that he might be in love with her, but he had to admit he possessed all the signs. The good news was that it appeared to him that Ron did not. Harry thought it was more of a crush than anything. Harry wished he knew how Hermione felt, but he had a pretty good idea that it was not what he wanted it to be. She was with Viktor, and how could he compete with that?

As he thought, Harry idly fiddled with the ring Hermione had given him right before they left Hogwarts. She had handed it to him, and informed him it was one half of a set of Talking Rings.

"_Unfortunately, the set only comes with a male and female ring, so I was not able to get one so you and Ron could talk. I think he is planning on kidnapping you to the Burrow as soon as possible anyway." She smiled at him, driving the butterflies in his stomach crazy. "I'll be in France for a few weeks during summer, but I should be back around the time you get to the Burrow. I'll keep in touch with you while I'm away. That way you won't be lonely at the Dursleys."_

"_Thanks, Hermione. This will help a lot. I certainly wasn't looking forward to being stuck there for another summer." He put the ring on, and smiled at the thought of being able to talk with her._

The Dursleys treated him better this summer, no doubt because Uncle Vernon was afraid of Alastor Moody, and the presence of Ryselle Spellsinger helped smooth things over with his aunt. She was trying very hard to win the young woman over and as a result was much nicer to Harry. The three weeks he was forced to stay with his relatives was almost pleasant, as they left him alone and he was able to retreat to Ryselle's house.

He and Hermione talked often. It sounded as if she was enjoying herself in France. She loved the Louvre, and spent a great deal of time describing the things she saw there. She took pictures and promised to bring him postcards. The surge of jealously he felt at the idea of her going clubbing with some guy named Pierre dissipated when she informed him that the boy was with her cousin. Until then his dreams were filled with visions of Hermione falling in love with a handsome French man who did not have an insanely evil wizard after him. Why couldn't he be an ordinary young man who could go with his best friend to Paris? He was determined to get there someday. With Hermione if it were possible. He flushed at the thought.

"Hey you two! You look like Snape made you drink one of his potions. Lighten up or we'll feel compelled to help you." Fred's voice cut through Harry's reverie like a knife. He looked at the twin, startled, and smiled feebly.

"Come on, George, you know I can't help but be brooding and silent. It's all part of the hero bit!"

Fred and George laughed. "How does that explain him then?" Fred pointed at Ron, who was now looking around in confusion.

"The faithful sidekick is but a shadow of his heroic partner!" proclaimed George.

Ron turned red. "I'm not a sidekick!"

Harry looked at the twins sternly. "Indeed he is not. After all, a sidekick could never beat the hero at chess every time they played now, could he?"

Ron glanced over at him, and grinned at the look on Harry's face.

"That's right! So you ruddy bastards can just bugger off!"

Fred and George laughed, and the boys spent the rest of the trip talking about Quiddich, school, and, of course girls.

They arrived at the Burrow toward evening, and were greeted enthusiastically by the boys' mother, Molly Weasley. She came bustling out of the house, followed closely by Ginny, and wrapped Harry in a big hug.

"Ah Harry dear. I'm so glad we could get you out of that horrid place! I hope things were not too bad for the past month."

He shook his head. "Things were surprisingly pleasant. I think Uncle Vernon is very frightened of Alastor Moody. He actually did everything he could to ignore me. The only time I really saw them was when they were showing me off to their new neighbor."

"New neighbor?"

"Uh, yeah. She moved in last summer. This is the first time I actually got to meet her. She's really nice."

Molly smiled. "That's wonderful, Harry. I'm glad there's a nice Muggle in that neighborhood."

"Uh, yeah." Harry made a mental note to avoid mentioning her magical ability. It didn't seem like she wanted it known to others and he respected her wishes.

Molly shooed the boys upstairs to Ron's room, where Harry would be staying for the rest of the summer. He arranged his things as best he could in the small space, and then went downstairs for dinner. The house was unusually deserted. Arthur Weasley was at work, trying to get things settled after the Minister of Magic finally accepted Voldemort's return. Charlie and Bill were there helping their father for the summer, and Percy was attached as usual to Cornelius Fudge. Harry knew better than to ask about that situation. Even after the Ministry admitted that the Dark Lord was alive and well, Percy was still unwilling to make peace with his parents. He was too busy trying to get ahead on Fudge's coattails. Fred and George were full of comments about his taste for shoe leather, among other things, but said nothing in front of their mother.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny spent a great deal of time together, practicing at Quiddich, clearing gnomes out of the garden, and generally hanging around enjoying the summer. Hermione was due to return from France in a week, which excited both boys to no end. Ron found himself secretly hoping Ginny and Harry would get together and leave the way open for him to woo Hermione, but as the week progressed, it was obvious Ginny had no interest in a relationship with the dark haired Gryffindor. Fred and George spent as much time as they could at home, while maintaining their fledgling business. Ron, Harry, and Ginny became very cautious about everything they ate or drank because of the twins' decision to make them a test market. Nothing their mother said could stop them.

Harry took to getting up at dawn every morning and climbing out on the roof to watch the sun rise. He found he needed more solitude than in past summers. Much of his time was spent thinking of Sirius. However he also devoted a considerable amount of his attention to trying to figure out what to do about Hermione. The solitude gave him the opportunity to let his emotions show for a change, and much of his time was spent with tears falling from his eyes as he thought about the things he had seen over the past few years.

He was sitting up on the roof staring out at the dawn one morning when he heard someone coming up the side of the house. He quickly wiped his face, willing the tears to stop, and assumed a neutral expression. He was very surprised to see Ginny Weasley's head pop over the side.

"Hey, Harry. Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. It's your house after all, Ginny."

She clambered up to where he sat. "You're a guest. Mum says that gives you more rights than those of us that live here. So what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been climbing up here every day for the past week. I imagine there's a reason."

"Maybe I like to watch the sunrise without wondering if Fred and George are going to light my hair on fire."

Ginny laughed. "They do make it hard to get some peace, don't they? That's the good part about being a girl. One screaming fit got Mum to threaten to bob their ears if they ever came in my room again."

"That and the unrelieved pink color scheme."

"True. Mum did go a bit overboard, didn't she?"

Harry looked at her in surprise. "I thought you picked the décor."

She made a disgusted face. "Heavens no! I prefer green. The only good thing about pink is that it prevents the boys from stealing my covers."

He laughed.

"So what are you thinking about?"

He hadn't expected that question. "Uh…things, I guess."

"What things, Harry?"

"Uh…well…uh…Sirius, for one."

She nodded. "That explains the tears."

He looked startled. "What tears?"

She gently wiped his face. "Those tears.

He smiled ruefully. "I see."

"So 'things' implies there was something else you were thinking about. What else is on your mind, Harry?"

He blushed. "Uh…uh…I…uh…"

"Hermione."

Harry choked. "Wh…why do you say that?"

"Because I'm not dumb or blind, Harry. It's not hard to see how much you care for her. In fact, it's obvious to anyone with half a brain. Even Ron's noticed."

Harry looked disturbed at that. "Ron?"

"Yes, Harry, did you think he wouldn't?"

He looked down at his feet. "I had hoped I hid it better than that. Ron was the last person I wanted to figure it out."

Ginny gave a small smile. "Because he likes her, huh?"

Harry nodded.

She took his hand. "Harry. Ron isn't stupid. He knows…has known for some time Hermione doesn't see him that way. He's just…hoped that he was wrong. The battle at the Ministry of Magic made things abundantly clear how the two of you felt about each other."

"It did?"

"Harry, you were fighting like I would imagine your parents fought. Everybody saw it. You make a great team. And it was not hard to see how much you cared for her when she got injured. Or how much she cared when that Death Eater threatened you."

He looked surprised. "You think Hermione cares for me as I care for her?"

"Without a doubt, Harry. Never think otherwise."

"But what about Viktor Krum?"

"Him? Oh, that's been over. She stopped writing him at the end of last year after he freaked out about…something. He's always been a bit too jealous of you in my opinion. But on the other hand, he's not blind either." She caught his eyes. "Neither is Cho."

Harry flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't mean for things to end the way they did. She just…always kept crying and trying to talk about Cedric, and was always so defensive about Hermione. She's my best friend, for heaven's sake. Cho knew that when she started…being interested in me."

"Yeah, and she probably figured you would drop Hermione like a blast-ended skrewt when she paid attention to you. She's like that, Harry. Bill calls it 'high maintenance'."

He laughed. "That she was!"

"Look, Harry, you need to think about what you want for a change. You've always been so self-sacrificing and noble, that you rarely take the opportunity to do things for yourself."

"I play Quidditch!"

"Yeah. And you spend the whole game thinking about how much the team will be happy when you get the Snitch. That's not for you, Harry. You should ask her out."

He choked. "Ask…her out?"

She nodded. "Yes. It's not like she's going to say no, Harry. Of course, there are very few women in the school that would turn Harry Potter down."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's the scar. The scar is SO attractive, it drives women wild."

She squeezed his hand. "It's not the scar, Harry. It's you." She got up to leave. "Think on it, Harry. You and Hermione are great together already. What do you think it would be like if you were even more together?"

"What about Ron?"

She paused and turned to face him. "What about Ron, Harry? It's not going to happen for him and Hermione, as much as he may wish it to. He'll have to move on sometime. Sometimes lessons are hard." A brief look of sadness crossed her face.

Harry suddenly felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

She smiled. "Don't be sorry, Harry. It's better this way."

He smiled. "Friends then?"

"Friends forever, Harry."

Hermione arrived at the Burrow about a few days after they had freed Harry from the Dursley's. Ron had spent the time in between trying to convince himself to accept the romance between his best friends, and step aside to encourage Harry to get together with Hermione. However, as soon as she arrived, all his plans went right out the window, and he found himself trying to figure out ways to get Hermione alone with him and Harry and Ginny alone with each other.

Unfortunately, his plan failed. Ginny was uncooperative and Hermione just paid that much more attention to Harry. It was all Ron could do to keep the two from being alone. He found himself participating in far too many conversations about Dark magic, magical defense, and even Potions to make him feel as if it were summer. Hermione was far too obsessed with school and Harry was starting to get just as bad.

He wasn't sure he could survive the summer.

The day after Hermione arrived at the Burrow was Harry's birthday. Molly and Ginny had planned a nice party for him, and immediately swept Hermione into the plans that evening, leaving Harry and the Weasleys free to play Quidditch.

The next morning Harry awoke to find Hermione downstairs meticulously preparing breakfast. He casually lounged in the doorway watching her. This was something he could get used to. An image of her fixing breakfast in their house flashed through his head, and he quickly grabbed it and tossed it into his mental closet with the rest of them. No need to make things more uncomfortable.

"Morning, Harry. Happy birthday!" She rushed over and gave him a tight hug while the potatoes sizzled. He was a bit amused by the fact that she was cooking, but thinking about it, it made perfect sense. Hermione was one of the best Potions students in the school. How could he ever think her incapable of following a recipe? For some reason, he always pictured her as a mess in the kitchen.

"Morning, 'Mione. Thanks. What are you cooking?"

"Potatoes, eggs, sausage, bacon… oh, do you like cheese on your eggs?" He nodded. "Good. Muffins, and I've made porridge for Ginny but I'm sure there's enough for you to have some if you want. Oh! I need to put on the pancakes."

Harry watched with a bemused look on his face as she rushed around preparing breakfast for him and the Weasleys. _She is so beautiful_, he thought. Her untamed honey-brown hair fell in soft curls down her back making him itch to run his fingers through it. She was already dressed for the day in a pair of white shorts and a red tank top. The glint of an odd silver pendant at her throat drew his attention to the creamy white expanse above her shirt and he hastily averted his eyes before they dropped to her chest.

The sounds of what could have been a hoard of rampaging hippogriffs approached and a sea of red-haired men stampeded into the room taking their spots at the table. Hermione immediately moved to bring them food. Harry looked at her with stunned admiration as he she took the first platter of hotcakes to the table as soon as the boys were seated. Taking his seat, he noted it was already set with the utensils and dishes necessary for breakfast. Ginny fetched a large pitcher of orange juice while her mother laid out the makings for tea.

Breakfast was the best he'd ever tasted. Not only was Hermione a terrific cook – she got compliments from all the boys (especially Ron who gushed like a schoolgirl) – but also seemed to have a knack for estimating how much food she needed to make. Perhaps five years of watching the Weasley boys consume incredible quantities of food had taught her how much to prepare. He loved her all the more for it. Bloody hell.

Hermione seemed to be paying special attention to him this morning. On no less than four separate occasions (two more than Ron) she asked him how he liked the food and if there was anything else she could get for him. Ron's expression grew darker as the morning progressed.

Harry didn't notice. He was too busy enjoying the attention.

"So what are we doing today, Harry?" Ron was gazing at him with an oddly hostile look.

"Er…" Instinctively he thought about Quidditch, but then he remembered that Hermione would be left out. He was not about to do that to her. "I'm not sure, Ron."

"Quidditch?"

Harry's eyes glanced toward Hermione. He was surprised to see a momentary flash of hurt before she schooled her features into a pleasant yet neutral countenance.

"No, I'm not really in the mood for Quidditch today."

The silence was almost deafening. But it was worth it for the surprised gleam in Hermione's eyes.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" "Should we get a nurse?" "Did Snape curse you or something?"

He laughed. "No, I just don't want to do something that not everyone will be involved in."

Hermione flushed as the Weasley's turned to stare at her.

"Uh, that's okay, Harry. It's your birthday. I can just watch like I usually do."

Harry was about to respond when Ginny beat him to it. "Actually, I have to agree with Harry. We always play Quidditch. Let's do something different for a change."

"Exploding Snap?"

"Chess"

"De-gnome the garden?"

"Fred!"

"How about hide and go seek?" Harry's ears perked up a Hermione's soft suggestion.

"That's brilliant, 'Mione! We could do it the Wizarding way."

They all looked at Ginny curiously.

"Oh bugger it all. It's easy. You can use your wand to cast concealment and detection spells, but you still have to tag the person yourself. We'll say that tree is the safe zone for the red team and that one for the blue team."

"How about red and gold?"

"Green and blue?"

"Red and green?"

"Guys! Shut it. I like this idea. It's certainly something different. How 'bout it, Ron?"

Ron looked at Harry, and then glanced at Hermione. The hopeful look on her face was all it took. His will crumbled and he nodded.

"Great!"

The next several hours were spent in a frenzy of hiding and chasing around the Burrow. Harry, Hermione, Bill, and George were the red team, which left Ron, Ginny, Charlie, and Fred for the blue team. Hermione taught them two concealment and detection charms that the red team used to good affect against their opponents. The lead went back and forth until Harry's team won two games in a row. Molly Weasley stepped in at that point and ordered everyone to get cleaned up. They were going to meet at Grimmuald Place with Remus, Tonks, Luna, and Neville for dinner and birthday cake.

By 6:30 they were ready to head out, and the group Flooed to the Order of the Phoenix headquarters where Harry's older friends waited. Upon stepping out of the fireplace, he found himself wrapped in a huge hug with Remus Lupin.

"Harry! Glad you could make it." He winked. "I see you brought a few friends."

Hermione waved. "Hi, Professor."

Ron, who was still upset about losing, gave the werewolf a curt nod. "Remus."

Remus was about to say something when he noticed Hermione's headshake. Right. Apparently the boy was feeling sensitive today. Lupin's enhanced perceptions caught the undercurrent of something between James' son and the young woman who was his best friend. The Weasley boy bristled with hostility toward Harry and it seemed pretty obvious what was going on. The fight for dominance was on. Everyone else appeared oblivious.

While Molly, Ginny, and Hermione went into the kitchen to fetch the plates and silverware, Remus examined Harry for signs of the crushing grief he'd seen before the end of the term. It was still there, but it seemed as if the young man finally came to terms with the loss of his godfather. It was surprising that he did not seem to have a problem with being in the Black house.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I'm okay, Remus. I just… needed some time I guess."

"Understandable. I can't say I'm too happy about it either."

"I'm sorry."

Lupin looked at the dark haired boy in surprise. "Whatever for?"

"I shouldn't have gone running off to save him like that. I should have… I don't know. Something."

"Harry, listen to me. Sirius knew what he was doing and what the risks were. You can't blame yourself for his choices."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, that's what I've been told." He shook himself. "So how have you been?"

"Tolerable. I'm just glad Severus saw fit to send me a good supply of the Wolfsbane potion. Now I can spend my summer without worrying about running out."

Harry's face darkened at the mention of the Potions master. "I… good, Remus. Glad to hear it."

"Come on Harry, let's join the rest in the dining room."

"Creepy place that it is."

"Oh, I think you might be pleasantly surprised." Remus wished he could tell Harry that his godfather had found love before his death, but Dumbledore was very insistent that no one know about her. Fortunately, he'd already met her so she was able to visit with him. It was thanks to her that Sirius' mother's portrait was silent and the gloom of the house had been lifted. The dining room appeared to be much more open and comfortable after her changes.

"Nice job, Remus." Harry looked around the room admiringly. He remembered the dining room as a dark and gloomy place suited, it appeared, only to dining with Dark Lords and their servants. Now the curtains and walls were lighter and the furniture had been changed into something more comfortable with big red cushions and a lighter oak wood.

The door to the kitchen opened and Arthur Weasley came out bearing a large three-tiered birthday cake covered in candles. The frosting was yellow (gold?) with red lettering and a Celtic pattern around the edges. His eyes were drawn to the sparkling gold form of a Snitch on the top of the cake that sat there, wings idly flapping.

"Hermione made this," muttered Arthur as he set the cake down in front of Harry. Startled, he gazed at his beautiful best friend. Her smile was uncertain until he grinned at her and nodded thanks.

Ron nudged him. "Oy. Make a wish, Harry!"

Harry closed his eyes and thought about all the things he could wish for, but there was one thing that stood out above them all. He could wish for so many things – like Volemort's death for example – but this was far more desirable. Sucking in a deep breath, he exhaled as hard as he could, determined to blow out all the candles so he could make his wish. He opened his eyes as the group cheered, and immediately sent his wish up to whoever might be listening. _Please keep Hermione safe_. It was simple yet profound, and he was surprised to discover it was the most important thing he could think of. He could die happy knowing that Hermione, the woman he loved, was safe.

_You will not win, Voldemort, as long as she lives, _he resolved.

The cake was quickly sliced and the pieces distributed. Following the mass feeding frenzy came the presents. This year the Weasleys had gone all out and spent the first bit of Arthur's new salary on gifts for their almost-son. He nearly cried at the thoughtfulness. Charlie got him a nice dragon-hide jacket and boots from Romania, with the admonition to try and stay away from Hungarian Horntails for a few more years. Bill gave him a scarab ring, informing him that the ancients believed they held great protective powers. Fred and George gave him a lifetime supply of any Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze he could ever want as well as a certificate for a free fireworks show at the event of his choosing. Ginny's gift was simple – a wrist sheath for his wand – and Ron got him the Interactive Guide to the History of Quidditch.

Hermione's gift was amazing. He expected the books. She gave him all four volumes of Defying Evil: A Definitive Study of the Dark Arts and How to Defend Against It by Archwizard Acheyrusand a Note-taking Notebook for school. The thing he liked the most, however, was the pendant. Hermione gave him and Ron a small box with an odd-shaped pendant like the one Hermione wore inside. Harry's was gold, Hermione's silver, and Ron's bronze. Each one had the initials of all three friends on the back and she showed him how they fit together to make one pendant.

"They've been charmed so we can locate each other and I was that told other charms can be added for a small charge."

Harry was ecstatic. He gave her a big hug and quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, 'Mione! You have no idea how much this means to me."

Ron scowled while Hermione blushed and insisted the two boys put their necklaces on. A brief surge of magical energy connected the three once the last was fastened. The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Harry. Ron dragged Hermione off to chat with her while Ginny kept him company. The others fluctuated in and out of the assorted conversations and he enjoyed the opportunity to be around his friends in the Order without being in the middle of a life-or-death situation. He kept wondering what Ron and Hermione were discussing, but refused to go over there and interrupt them. He knew Ron liked her and from what he could tell, the feeling was mutual. It was something he would just have to deal with.

They returned to the Burrow late that night, and Harry went to sleep content for the first time in a long while. Ron, on the other hand, was less than happy. His conversation with her did not go the way he planned. She kept looking over at Harry, not even trying to hide the fact that she wanted to be with him instead. The red head's irritation grew and by the end of the evening he was ready to hex both his best friends for being selfish prats. Wasn't it enough that Harry got everything? All the success. All the attention. All the girls. Resolving to not think about it until the morning, Ron went to sleep.

The next day did not go the way he planned either.

Hermione was staying in Ginny's room, which Ron had been banished from years ago. She spent the day catching up with his sister, who had become very good friends with Hermione over the previous year. He knew Ginny wanted to hear all about her trip to France, so he resigned himself to not seeing either of them outside of meals. Several days passed and he saw very little of his female best friend. Toward the end of the week, he decided to get together a Quidditch game to distract him from his thoughts. Harry and his brothers were all too willing, and the boys spent the next few hours in the air.

Meanwhile, Ginny and Hermione stayed in the younger girl's room, catching up on their summer activities.

"Okay, so tell me about France. Was it truly the Romance Capital of the World?"

Hermione blushed. "That's not what I was there for, Ginny! I spent time sightseeing and taking pictures."

"No handsome Frenchmen offer to take you to see the sights?"

"Ginny! No! Well, I mean, I was asked, but I said no!"

"You were asked? By who?" Ginny's eyes sparkled with excitement.

Hermione frowned. "By no one I knew or cared to 'see the sights' with. Most of the time I actually spent with my cousin and her boyfriend." She sighed. "It was nice, but…"

"Too bad Harry wasn't there, huh?"

The older girl sighed. "Yes, too bad. It would have been lov… Hey!" Her cheeks flushed red at the thought. "Uh, it would have been nice… to be there with a… friend."

"Uh huh." Ginny eyed her friend skeptically. "A friend. Do you know what that friend told me last week?"

"What?"

Ginny replied coolly, "Nothing you'd be interested in." A pillow flew at her head. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Oh you know what it's for. What did he say? You didn't mention it for no reason."

"I suppose I didn't." Ginny's mischievous grin turned serious. "Hermione, answer me a question first."

"Okay."

"How do you feel about my brother?"

"Which one?"

"Ron, silly!"

"Oh! I thought I already made it clear. I guess you could say I feel like anyone would feel about his or her best friend. I care for him deeply, kind of like a brother."

"Is that all?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, Ginny. Now I'll admit that I once considered the possibility of there being more than friendship with him…"

"And?"

"And, I came to the conclusion that it would be an unmitigated disaster. I like him, Ginny, but not in a romantic way."

"But you were attracted to him."

"Of course. For a short while. But I was also attracted to several other boys as well. I was a young girl growing up."

"You make it sound like you're not young now."

Hermione sighed. "I'm a lot older than I was, Ginny."

The girls were quiet for a moment. Ginny broke the silence. "So there's nothing other than friendship now, is there?"

"No, Ginny. I care for him as a friend, my best friend, but that's all." She looked at the younger Gryffindor curiously. "Why the inquisition?"

"Because, Hermione. Ron likes you. Like as more-than-a-friend likes you. So does Harry. The problem, of course, is rather obvious."

"What? What do you mean Ron likes me?"

"Exactly what I said, Hermione. He's had a crush on you for a while. He just never said anything about it. I think he's always known deep down that you don't think of him that way. But that doesn't change his feelings."

Hermione looked stunned. "But, I never…"

"Hermione, no one ever said it was logical. Or even possible. He knows how you feel about Harry."

"How I feel… He does?"

"Who doesn't? Come on, Hermione. It's so obvious I'm surprised the room doesn't burst into song when you two are in the room together. I bet even Malfoy knows."

"He's rather perceptive, Ginny, he… wait, what do you mean by the room bursting into song?"

"You know, like in movies where the hero and heroine are in the same room and the romantic music swells to illustrate the love they feel for one another?"

"You're still on about Harry having feelings for me? Oh, come on, Ginny!"

Ginny stood up. "What, you don't believe me? Let's go ask him!"

"Ginny! No! I…" Hermione grabbed at the red-haired girl's hand. "Please, don't embarrass me like that."

"How are you going to be embarrassed, Hermione? He loves you. You love him. You were made for each other!"

Ginny flung the door open and narrowly missed running into Ron who was standing just outside the door. He quickly stepped back out of her way.

"Whoa, Ginny, where's the fire? Uh, in a hurry for something?"

Something about the way he shifted his eyes made Ginny suspicious about his presence outside her door. She quickly scanned the area for Extendable Ears. Eyes narrowed, she glared at her brother. "Is there something you wanted, Ronald?"

He winced at her tone. "Uh, no! I was, uh, just headed downstairs for a bit of a snack!"

"Uh huh."

"What? You know how hungry I get after Quidditch! Is that so hard to believe?"

"No, Ron, it's not." Suddenly, something caught her eye. "Except for the fact that you don't have to use Extendable Ears to get one!" She bent over and grabbed the Ear hidden just inside the doorway.

"Er, uh, well, I, uh…"

"Ginny, is there something going on?" Hermione looked at the two Weasleys curiously.

Ginny grabbed Ron's hand. "No, Hermione. Not really. I just need to talk to Ron about something. That's all." She dragged her brother downstairs, leaving a confused Hermione behind.

Ron was dragged outside by his sister and taken to the shed. There, she rounded on him.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, what the bloody hell do you think you were doing?"

"Uh, well, I, uh…"

"That's not a good enough answer, Ronald! You were eavesdropping on my and Hermione's conversation! You prat! How dare you listen in on what was a private discussion…"

"About Harry and how Hermione bloody loves him! Yes, I know, Ginny. I wish it had remained private. I was coming down to take the Ear back. I didn't really want to hear any more."

"Any more? How long have you been spying on me?"

Ron could feel the anger in her gaze. "Uh… since the beginning of the summer." He held out his hands to stop her from hurting him. "Wait! I can explain! I promised Fred and George I would do an extended trial. I thought I would just hear you singing or talking to your diary or something. I didn't mean to listen in on you and Hermione."

"But you couldn't resist once you had the chance, could you?"

"Uh… well, uh…"

"What? Were you hoping to hear her confessing her undying love for you or something?" His pained look gave her the answer she needed. She immediately felt sorry for him. "You were hoping exactly that, weren't you?"

He nodded, hanging his head in regret.

Ginny reached over and gave him a quick hug. "Oh Ron. You idiot. I thought you knew how they felt about each other."

He sighed. "I… I guess I did. I just didn't want to accept it. I thought… maybe you and Harry might…"

She held up her hand. "Not going to happen, Ron. Even if Harry was mad for me, I'm kinda going out with someone else right now."

"You are?"

She silently cursed. "Yes, Ron, I am. And don't you get all brotherly and protective on me! I'm perfectly capable of handling myself with a guy! I don't need you to come barreling in playing all mean and disapproving!"

"Who is it?"

"Someone really nice. That's all I'm telling you, Ron! I still haven't forgotten the last time you had a chat with one of my boyfriends."

Ron winced at the reminder. She had been angry with him for weeks. He never meant for them to break up, well, not completely. He just felt the boy needed to know how things stood. How was he supposed to know the boy was afraid of snakes?

"Anyway," Ginny continued, "it's beside the point. You bloody well had no right to plant that thing in my room and use it to spy on us! I've a good mind to tell Mum about this."

"Wait, Ginny, don't! She's already hacked off enough about the burn marks on the carpet. I really don't need another lecture."

"I think you do!"

"But…"

"But not from her. I'm not going to tell Mum, Ron." She smirked at his look of relief. "You're going to apologize to Hermione. After you explain what you did."

"WHAT?"

"You're going to go upstairs and apologize to Hermione about using the Extendable Ears to violate her privacy."

"You're crazy, Ginny! She'll be royally hacked off at me for it! Then I'll never have a chance!"

Ginny was silent for a moment, and then spoke softly. "You honestly think you have a chance now, Ron? After what you heard?"

"If Harry's too blind to see how she feels about him, then too bloody bad!"

"How dare you." The soft statement stopped him cold.

Ron whirled around to see Hermione glaring angrily at him. "How dare you say such a thing about your best friend, Ron Weasley! After everything we've been through, and everything he has done for us, you dare to ignore his feelings in such a way? Not to mention mine? I thought you were my best friend! I thought…"

"Best friend? Is that what I am? Because you bloody well don't act like it! You're constantly ignoring me to moon over Harry Bloody Potter, who doesn't even know you're a girl yet! He's so blind to you yet all you do is follow him around like a puppy hoping for a small bit of attention. Well you know what, Hermione? It's never going to happen! Harry doesn't feel that way about you. I don't care what Ginny says! It's pathetic how everyone is trying to put the two of you together when only one of you is even aware that the other exists! And you fall for it every single time!"

"Ron…" Ginny began.

"You're so bloody desperate for his affection that you threw away a perfectly good relationship in hopes that one day he will come down off his ivory tower and pay attention to you! You're fooling yourself! Every girl in the Wizarding world wants him. How the hell do you think he is going to react when he meets a girl that looks like Cho and does magic like you? Assuming he actually noticed your existence, he'll leave you to go running off with her. And then where will you be? Broken hearted and alone just because you couldn't accept the fact that he doesn't love you!"

"Ron!" Ginny was furious. "How…"

"You may be right, Ron." Hermione spoke softly, her voice sadder than Ginny had ever imagined it could be. "He may not love me. As a matter of fact, I don't think he does. Not the way I want him to. But that doesn't change how I feel about him. I love him, Ron. It would not have been fair to stay with Viktor when I felt this way about another man. He deserves better. And I deserve better than a selfish and callow bastard who calls himself my friend! There will never be anything between us, Ron. Today you have seen to that. I hope one day you will be able to accept the friendship Harry and I have always offered you, but until that day, consider things between us at an end."

Ron watched in disbelief as Hermione turned and walked away. His gaze followed her until she entered the house, his heart breaking when she entered without looking back. Suddenly, he realized what he had said to her and what he had done to her with his words. He glanced over to see Ginny gazing at him sadly. It was that which broke him, and tears began to stream down his face. He pushed Ginny away when she tried to hug him, and he grabbed his broom taking off into the sky, resolutely ignoring the hurt look on her face.

Ginny sighed, suddenly realizing this summer just got a lot more complicated.

Up in Ron's room, Harry sat back on his cot, enjoying the feeling summer away from the Dursleys always gave him. The sense of freedom was very powerful. He loved being able to choose what to do with his time, and he loved having such great friends to spend that time with. And he could always count on Ron to throw together a good game of Quidditch with his brothers.

The game went well today. Playing with the Weasleys was always infinitely more relaxing than playing at Hogwarts. Ginny was right. Whenever he played there, everything he did was so the Gryffindor team would come out on top. It wasn't terribly relaxing because he always felt such a strong feeling of responsibility for the game. Catching the Snitch often made the difference between winning and losing. He had missed playing this past year, but part of him admitted that the game had become less of a relief and more of a responsibility over the years. He looked forward to the day where he could just play for enjoyment. He figured things would get a lot easier after Voldemort was gone.

A slight chill passed over Harry as he thought about the dark wizard. He still hadn't told anyone about the prophecy, and sometimes it weighed very heavily on him. He wanted to tell Ron and Hermione, and had originally planned to do it over the summer. But after seeing how relaxed and happy Hermione had been upon her return from France, he realized he couldn't dampen her summer that way. Ron was acting strange already, so Harry decided to keep the information to himself. He thought he might talk with Professor McGonagall about it when they returned to school.

He had no idea what was up with Ron. He was beginning to suspect Ginny was right about Ron knowing of his feelings for Hermione. Ron was certainly acting jealous. From what Harry could tell, however, he had no reason to be. Harry was not about to start chasing after Hermione now. For multiple reasons. Ron was just one of them. He had no desire to further strain their friendship, so he had made a concerted effort to think of her as nothing but a friend from the time she arrived. It was not easy, however. She grew more beautiful and amazing every year, but there was something about her this summer in particular that caught his attention. He realized he should not be thinking of her as anything other than a friend, but it was hard not to when she smiled at him the way she did.

His heart almost stopped when she first walked into the Burrow a few days ago. Her soft pink lips were curved into a beauteous smile, white teeth sparkling in the sunlight. Her cinnamon eyes shone like agates, full of joy and life. He couldn't help but respond in kind and found himself grinning like a maniac. She flung herself into his arms and gave him a huge hug, which had the result of making his heart beat even faster. Peripherally he noticed Ron glowering in the background, but it hadn't mattered at the time when she was in his arms. Harry found himself smiling involuntarily at the recollection. Reality quickly returned, however, and he concentrated on pushing his feelings to the back of his mind. He did not want to open that particular can of worms while she was visiting for the summer.

It occurred to him that Ron had been gone for a bit longer than he expected. The two Gryffindors had been resting after their Quidditch match when Ron suddenly felt the need for a snack. He bolted out the door before Harry could react, muttering something about bringing something back. With a shrug, Harry sat back and got lost in his thoughts. That had been well over fifteen minutes ago. Harry knew his friend extremely well. It did not take fifteen minutes for Ron to find food. He got up and headed downstairs to see what was going on.

Harry walked down the stairs and was almost bowled over as Hermione came running by, tears streaming from her eyes. He regained his balance and chased after her.

"Hermione!" He never realized she could move so fast. "Hermione, wait!"

Harry reached the door to Ginny's room as it slammed in his face. He heard her lock the door behind her, and cursed the Ministry's rules against underage wizardry.

"Hermione! It's Harry! What's wrong?"

"Go away, Harry." Even through the door he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Hermione, please. Talk to me! Tell me what the matter is."

"Nothing, Harry. Please go away."

"Hermione, I'm not going away until you tell me what is going on."

"If you want to know so badly, why don't you go ask Ron?"

"Ron? Why would I…" Suddenly, comprehension dawned. "You two have another fight?"

"Yes, Harry. We had another fight. And when you see him, you can tell Ron that I'm every bit as good as every other girl out there! So he can bugger off!"

Shock rooted Harry to the floor. He realized she must have told him she had a crush on him or something. Despair lanced through his heart. She was in love with Ron. Suddenly, so many things over the past few years made sense. The fights, the uncomfortable silences, the odd looks. Harry felt like a fool. Ginny was horribly wrong. Bowing his head in defeat, Harry slumped away, his heart heavy. He had allowed himself to begin to think that maybe there was something to what Ginny had told him. He realized now that everything was as he thought it was. She was just a very good friend who was happy to see him.

Reaching the room he was sharing with Ron, he listened at the door for the red-haired boy, hoping for once the room was empty. He heard nothing, so he went in and was relieved to find himself alone. He grabbed his wand and climbed up to the roof where he had been taking refuge for the past few weeks. Only when he was sure he was alone and unobserved did he allow the tears to come.

Meanwhile, Ron Weasley perched on a tree several miles away from the Burrow, having raced away on his broom as quickly as possible. He knew Hermione would probably go running to Harry, and he had no desire to encounter the dark-haired Gryffindor in his current state. Despite what Hermione thought, he did still value the friendship between them, and wished there was a way to restore it to what it once was. It occurred to him that it might no longer be possible. Too much had been said between the three of them. Ron knew that Harry really did like Hermione. He hated himself for what he said to her. He simply found himself speaking before he thought. Like usual. And in doing so, made it highly improbable that Hermione would ever give him the time of day again.

He didn't want to even consider what Harry would do when he found out. He was always so protective of her. How ironic. He was the one chasing after her, but it was Harry that was always defending her. Harry hurt her with his indifference, but Ron hurt her with his words. This time he really went too far. He knew what he told her was wrong. If Harry finally admitted his feelings for her, he would be committed to her forever. He was like his father that way. But he was so caught up in being Harry Bloody Potter, and valiantly defending the Wizarding world that he neglected to be there for his two best friends. Ever since Sirius died, Harry had been more silent than usual. It was driving Ron crazy – all the brooding and introspective silences. He got the feeling it was more than just the issue with his godfather dying. Harry had come back from Headmaster Dumbledore's office with a haunted look in his eyes that he tried to hide. But Ron had known him since they were eleven. There was something else. Something Harry refused to tell either him or Hermione. It was just another sign of how their friendship had changed over the past year.

He was responsible for some of it, he knew. He had expected Harry to be chosen to be a Prefect, as had everyone else, and he couldn't help but get a bit of an ego boost when he was selected over his friend, the Great Harry Potter. Perhaps he shouldn't have rubbed it in quite so much. Ordinarily he didn't think it would have mattered, but Harry was being painted as an insanely unstable threat to the Wizarding world. The strain simply made things worse. He had been Harry's friend through all of it, but maybe he could have been a bit more supportive. He owed both his friends an apology. The friendship the three of them was the most valuable thing he had. If he thought it would help Harry feel better, he would give up his Prefect's badge in a heartbeat. He resolved to fix things, and to deal with the situation between Harry and Hermione as it came. The way things were going now, Harry was going to keep them all at arms length until Voldemort was defeated.

Ron climbed out of the tree, taking one last look around. The rolling hills were covered with rich, green grass and speckled in places with colorful flowers. There were several stands of trees in the area like the one he stood in, and with summer in full force, they were green as the grass and full of leaves. It was peaceful here. His own private refuge from the hectic reality of six brothers. Ginny never really bothered him that much, but then he was smart enough to stay on her good side. Except when it came to her boyfriends. His eyes narrowed. He needed to find out who this mystery guy was so he could make sure the boy knew to respect Ginny and treat her well. He mentally went through the list of boys at Hogwarts as he climbed on his broom and headed back to the house. He was confident he would figure it out.

Back at the Burrow, Hermione quickly threw her clothes into a bag, determined to escape before Ron returned or Harry managed to convince one of the older Weasleys to unlock the door. There were still several weeks left before school started, and if she went home now she could get a head start on next year. She could not believe Ron said what he did to her. Knowing her feelings for Harry were unreturned was one thing, but having someone baldly state it to her was another. Harry and Ron spent a great deal of time together, so Hermione supposed he would be the one to know if Harry liked her. Ginny's assertions aside, she never really thought Harry would ever find her attractive the way he had Cho Chang. Not that she blamed him. She was beautiful, smart, and athletic – all the things Hermione was not. Well, except for smart. She knew she had that one down. But with Cho her intelligence was attractive and interesting, whereas Hermione seemed to possess a more obnoxious and boring version.

Her packing was finished before she knew it. This was probably the first time in her life she had not stopped to meticulously fold everything and place it carefully in her bags. Now she just needed to get to the fireplace before anyone noticed. She heard Harry go upstairs right after she yelled at him, and figured he was still there, brooding. Her heart twinged as the thought of how he would feel about her absence. Like he would notice, said Ron's voice in her head. She frowned at the uncharitable thought. He would understand once she explained to him what happened.

Tiptoeing to the door, she opened it a crack to see if there was anyone around. The house was bizarrely empty today. After the Quidditch match, the older Weasleys had gone their separate directions, Bill and Charlie to the Ministry; Fred and George to their shop; and Percy had yet to return home even for a visit. Hermione slowly opened the door and gingerly picked her way down the stairs. She sighed with relief when she saw the fireplace and no one else was around. Now she just had to find the Floo powder.

"Looking for this?"

Hermione turned to see Ginny holding the canister. She looked very upset, her pale skin flushed in anger. Her foot tapped impatiently.

"Ginny, you know I can't stay here right now."

"So you're just going to leave without telling anyone?"

"It will be better this way."

"Why, because it's the coward's way? I thought you were a Gryffindor!"

Tears suddenly sprang to Hermione's eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't be! Maybe I should have been in Ravenclaw after all! I can't handle this, Ginny! Do you expect me to stay here knowing he doesn't love me? It's going to be all I can do to deal with it in school! I wish I had never said anything!"

"But Hermione…"

"Ginny. Please understand. I'm not running away, but I'm not staying either. I'll see you at Hogwarts." She hesitated. "Maybe we can get together in Hogsmeade again."

"But…"

Ginny gazed at her for a moment, taking in the brown-haired girl's tear-stained face and puffy eyes. Her heart broke to see fresh tears sparkling at the corners of her chocolate eyes. She knew then that a quick resolution to the situation would not be found. With a sigh, she held out the pot of Floo Powder. "Alright. But I'm keeping you to that. Owl me and we can go out sometime."

Hermione nodded, taking a handful of the powder. In a flash of green flame, she was gone.

Ginny took a deep breath and fought down the surge of temper she felt at the thought of her brother's actions. _He made a right mess of things_, she thought. Harry was going to think Hermione ran away from him, and Ron was going to blame himself (rightfully so) for her unhappiness. It was all she could do not to lock them all in a room together and force them to work things out. Unfortunately, she knew that was not the answer. Harry and Hermione needed to work through their feelings for one another, and Ron had to learn to accept it. So much for the fun-filled summer she had been looking forward to.

She turned to head upstairs and was shocked to see Harry standing on the bottom step. His eyes were fastened to the fireplace where Hermione was just moments ago, and she could see despair clouding their emerald depths. It confused her for a moment, as she tried to figure out why Harry was so upset, and then she remembered Hermione's parting words. Understanding struck her like a Stun spell. He must think she meant Ron didn't love her. He thought she told Ron she had feelings for him and he rejected her. Ginny started to say something when Harry's eyes met hers. She almost drowned in the depth of emotion she saw there. The protest died on her lips as she realized he was in no mood to listen.

Shoulders slumped; he turned and headed back up the steps. She wanted to call him back but she had no idea what to say. Hermione was gone, and somewhere a terrible mistake had been made to convince Harry the woman he loved was in love with Ron. She needed to find out what happened.

Filled with a new purpose, Ginny squared her shoulders and went in search of her brother.

She found Ron by almost running him over as she headed out the door to fetch her broom. Her fit of temper died when she saw the regretful cast of his features. His eyes were sad, filled with remorse for what he said to his best friend. She wasn't about to let him off the hook, however.

"Ronald."

"Ginny."

"What the bloody FUCK do you think you were doing?"

Ron's eyes widened at the expletive. "Uh, I… uh…"

"Shut it, Ron, and listen good. I don't know what you thought you were doing when you said all those things to Hermione, but you hurt her. Worse yet, you hurt her deliberately. Were you trying to drive her away?"

"I…"

"You succeeded. Beyond your wildest dreams you did."

"What?"

"She's gone, Ron. She went home. She couldn't stand to be here anymore, knowing you said what you did. She…"

Ron collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. "Bloody hell." He looked up at his sister. "I didn't mean it, Ginny. You have to believe me. I would never say anything to deliberately hurt her. I lost my temper. I'm so sorry! Bugger. I never wanted things to end like this. I love her."

"You…"

"So that's what happened."

Ginny whirled to see Harry highlighted in the doorway. "Harry."

Ron's eyes widened in shock as he realized his other best friend had heard his confession. "Uh, Harry, uh…I…uh…"

"Don't worry about it Ron. I know. I've known for a while."

"You have?"

Harry nodded. "It's pretty obvious. Even Malfoy could figure it out. You've been mooning over her since our fourth year, when you developed a sudden dislike of Viktor Krum after he asked Hermione to the Yule Ball. You've been jealous of anyone who paid her the slightest bit of attention, including me I might add, and are constantly looking at her when you think no one is looking."

"What about you then? You're pretty much in the same boat, mate."

Harry grimaced. "Maybe we are, but it doesn't matter. She'll never…" He shook his head. "It's not important. She's better off with someone else anyway."

"Harry…"

"No, Ginny, I know what you've said and I think today has proven that you are badly mistaken. Let it go. All I want is to make things better between all of us so we can get back to being friends."

"Here, here, mate." Ron went over and clapped Harry on the back. "It'll be alright. We fight like this all the time. She'll get over it."

"I hope so."

Ginny narrowly avoided smacking them both. She knew this was not the end. Her brother was being an idiot like usual, ignoring the fact that Harry was madly in love with Hermione who returned the feeling. She knew Harry still had the wrong impression, but after what he heard today, nothing was going to make him change his perspective. Only Hermione could do that. But first she needed to convince the older girl that Ron was wrong about Harry's feelings. She certainly had her work cut out for her.

"I'll be in my room, guys. Don't forget that Mum wanted the gnomes booted out of the garden tonight before she gets home." Without another word, she flounced off, leaving the two confused young men behind her.


	3. Return to Hogwarts

Okay, just another reminder that this is AU. Changing the story to accommodate Book 6 would wreak incredible amounts of havoc with my plot, and seeing as I have a large part of it already written, it would suck to have to rewrite everything. The kids' OWL results in this story were determined long before the book was at press. Please bear with me as I post things. I'm making sure each chapter is up to a suitable standard before posting it. And I'm continuing to write on my other fics.

SnHP892 – Don't worry. It will get brighter. I'll freely admit I'm a bit of an angstful writer, but I hope you enjoy the upcoming bright spots.

Thanks again for reading. The thrill of knowing someone out there is actually taking the time to read something I wrote more than makes up for all the time I've spent ignoring my husband. Hats off to him for being so understanding, and hats off to all of you for giving me some of your time. Thanks again to Vaughn for her great work.

And now back to the story…

* * *

Ryselle Spellsinger stepped out of the carriage in front of her new home. The castle had the haphazard appearance she thought only a wizard's castle could achieve. The sun blazed brilliantly on this summer day, shining off the tall spires and lumbering towers jutting out from the massive structure. A sign identified it as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her ruby lips curved up in amusement at the thought of what she will be doing for the next year. Who would have expected Albus Dumbledore to express interest in her as a teacher? She shook her head in disbelief. The man must be really desperate to fill the position. Defense Against the Dark Arts. She supposed he was looking for trustworthiness over experience. He knew she just finished her training not a year ago and had very little practical experience in the subject.

The object of her thoughts stepped out of the castle, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Ryselle, my dear, welcome to Hogwarts!"

"Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate the opportunity."

Gesturing for the dark-haired witch to follow him, they entered the magical citadel. "Not at all, my dear. I was pleasantly surprised to hear you had finished your apprenticeship with Acheyrus last year. I only wish you could have come then."

She chuckled. "I do not believe I would have been ready at that point, Headmaster. The past year has been good for me. I have traveled a great deal and learned many things."

"Things you will pass on to your students, I hope."

"Of course."

They arrived at a series of classrooms Dumbledore identified as the Defense Against the Dark Arts rooms. "The Room of Requirement may also be used for practice, but I would suggest you speak with Harry about that."

She nodded. "Of course. He mentioned some sort of defense club last year."

"Ah yes, it was my understanding that you finally met Harry and his relatives."

Her face twisted into a grimace. "Indeed I did."

"It appears you did not find them to your liking."

Without thinking, Ryselle returned to the habit of her youth. "Uncl… Oh! My apologies."

He chuckled at the memory of the youthful Ryselle insisting he was one of her uncles. "Albus, please."

"Albus, they were the most horrible people I have ever met! I could tell that Petunia woman wanted nothing more than to get me alone so she could tell me horrible things about poor Harry. And her husband?" She shivered. "I could only wish Sirius could have been there to teach him some manners!" Her eyes turned watery at the thought and she was grateful to Albus Dumbledore's patience as he waited quietly for her to dab her eyes.

"Sorry."

"That is quite alright, my dear. I understand completely." His kind blue eyes met hers. "You will find the schedule of your classes on your desk, along with a suggested teaching plan. I used the one from the year before, as last year's plan left something to be desired." She raised a delicately arched eyebrow at that. "Miss Umbridge was not well suited to the position and unfortunately the students were the ones to suffer for it."

"So I will need to catch them up, then?"

"I'm afraid so. I have every confidence you will be able to do so with minimal difficulty, however."

"I appreciate your faith, Headmaster." She responded absently, her amethyst eyes glancing over the lesson plans. It did not appear there was a great deal to change, but she had some ideas based on her own training.

The smile in his voice was audible. "I told you, child. Albus is fine, should you wish. You are, after all, a grown young woman and not the girl with a terrible fondness for lemon drops."

She laughed. 'Uncle' Albus used to feed her lemon drops when her grandfather was not looking, and then feign ignorance when he demanded to know how she got them. Ryselle doubted her grandfather was fooled, but it was a good game for the two old friends to play. Some of her fondest memories were of Albus Dumbledore and Acheyrus playing games with her and teaching her magic.

"I will try to remember that. Perhaps some lemon drops might serve as a reminder."

The headmaster chuckled, eyes twinkling with merriment. "Perhaps I shall bring some the next time, then. Welcome to Hogwarts, Ryselle. I look forward to your tenure. I doubt it will be at all monotonous."

In a flutter of robes he was gone, leaving her to unpack and set up her classroom. Ryselle quickly set to arranging her things, meticulously placing her books and tools on the shelves and organizing her desk. Acheyrus always teased her about being so organized, but she was not the one wandering around the house looking for her shoes. It pleased her to see there was plenty of shelving and drawer space. She brought a number of books to aid her, and several magical devices the students would no doubt find interesting. Those she would lock away until time to use them. Ryselle worked until late in the night, and then headed up to her rooms.

The next day was the time for OWL results to go out. It was quite a bit later than normal, thanks to the chaos at the Ministry of Magic. As a result from the battle held there at the end of fifth year, and the broad sweeping changes in the government, OWL and NEWT results were delayed until the beginning of August. Four days after Hermione left, an unidentified owl arrived with an envelope for Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and to everyone's surprise, Ginny. Harry supposed Hermione's was sent to her home or wherever she was. He felt a pain at the reminder of her absence. Ever since she'd left that day, he had no contact with her. He tried to get in touch with her using his ring, but she either ignored it, or was not wearing it. His heart broke to realize how much she was hurting. Ginny was the only reason he stayed sane during those first few days, but even she learned very quickly to avoid mentioning Hermione's absence.

Harry was surprised to discover he somehow managed to muddle through and get an Exceeds Expectations in Potions. He knew much of it had to do with the assistance of his best friend. Hermione spent a lot of time tutoring him and Ron last year and it seemed something finally sank in. That and Snape wasn't the one grading the test. Defense Against the Dark Arts was his only Outstanding, and the rest was a mix.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results – Harry Potter**

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Potions E

Transfiguration E

History of Magic A

Charms E

Astronomy A

Herbology E

Divination P

Care of Magical Creatures E

He was thrilled to see he achieved eight OWLS, but slightly disappointed his Potions score was not high enough to get into Snape's class. Admittedly, not having a class with the bloody git was a bonus, but his dream of becoming an Auror was dashed by that single letter.

Ron did not do quite as well, but managed to achieve seven OWLS including, surprisingly, Potions and Transfiguration. Neither of them was surprised at their failure to gain anything in Divination, but a year without Trelawney promised to be a good year. Molly was thrilled beyond belief at her son's achievement.

Ginny simply smiled mysteriously when asked about her Ministry letter.

The rest of the week was spent in a frenzy of celebration and preparation. The boys were satisfied with their test results and spent hours discussing the possibilities for the future as a result. Harry came to a realization that surprised him.

"I'm honestly not sure I want to become an Auror anymore." Ron, Ginny, and Harry were sitting in the living room of the Burrow playing Exploding Snap. Ginny looked up in surprise.

"Why not, Harry? I think you'd be good at it."

He shrugged. "Probably. But maybe after all this is done I won't want to spend the rest of my life fighting dark wizards. I mean, it's been going on since I was eleven."

"Blimey, Harry. I never thought I'd see the day when you tossed aside your dream to save the world."

"Ron!" Ginny glared reproachfully at her brother. "Harry, maybe this is a decision you should make a bit later. After you see how things are going to go this year."

"I don't have much of a choice, Gin. I didn't get into Snape's NEWT class. I'm not going to be able to be an Auror anyway."

"Aw, bloody hell, mate. Do you honestly think the Ministry will turn down the opportunity to have the Great Harry Potter as part of the Auror program?"

Harry eyed Ron with irritation. "Contrary to popular belief, Ron, I'm not out to exploit my fame and manipulate the system to fulfill my desires. I'm not going to do anything without honestly earning it."

"Harry. If you defeat Voldemort, I think that more than qualifies you to become an Auror. There's not a Wizard in the world that will say otherwise."

"Maybe. I guess we'll just have to see." Again he shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll just travel the world for a while. You know, study other kinds of magic or something. Kinda like… er… someone I heard about."

The two Weasleys looked at him curiously.

"Uh, don't worry about it. Hey Ron, how 'bout a game of chess?" Fortunately Ron was easily diverted and the two quickly became absorbed in the game. Ginny, on the other hand, continued to wonder, but she could tell Harry had no intentions of telling them anything at this time. She'd have to ask him later.

The next day Ginny received an owl from Hermione letting them know she managed to get eleven OWLS, all Outstanding. She refused to take Divination, which meant she had no grade there, but she sat for everything else. Despite the terrific grades, Ginny knew her bushy haired friend was not thrilled that Percy still had one more OWL than her. Along with her results came a letter.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I've decided I'm going back to France for the rest of the summer. I know myself well enough to realize that coming back to visit the Burrow is not something I can handle right now, so I talked to Mum and Dad about taking the chance to spend more time in Paris. It really is beautiful there, and I have at least three more days at the Louvre before I've seen everything._

_Tell Harry I'm sorry for ignoring the ring. I'm not mad at him; I guess I just don't want to really talk to anyone right now. I'll see all of you back at Hogwarts and we can chat then. Good luck with the tests and hopefully next year we'll have a new roommate._

_Hermione_

For the thousandth time that summer Ginny felt the urge to hex her brother to within an inch of his life. At this point she'd rather curse him than Malfoy, which was saying a lot. The bloody prat was responsible for all of this and he steadfastly refused to do anything about it. Bastard. How could he do this to his best friends? _Easy_, said the voice in her mind, _he's insanely jealous and has succumbed to his need to punish the people who made him that way._ Bloody hell. Even a blind man could see how much Harry and Hermione cared for each other in their first year. She broke rules for him and he protected her without thought. They were a great team, and until this summer, she thought nothing would ever divide them.

_Bugger_.

Ginny resolutely pushed the situation out of her mind in order to concentrate on her upcoming tests. No one but Hermione knew she was sitting her OWLS this summer. She honestly had expected the headmaster to say no when she asked, but instead he just gazed at her with that all-knowing expression and gave her a kind smile. He promised to speak with the Ministry and see if something could be done.

A week ago she received a letter from the Ministry listing the time and dates of her tests. The first one was tomorrow and she had a lot of studying to do. Making the excuse that she had some things to take care of (dreaded female things were always a great excuse) she bounced up to her room and spent the evening deep in her books.

Harry and Ron hung out downstairs until it was time for the youngest male Weasley to head off to work. He was spending three afternoons a week working for his brothers. The money he made more than compensated him for the lack of time. Harry, in the meantime, was left to his own devices. It really didn't bother him that much. During his summers with the Dursleys, Harry had gotten used to spending great amounts of time on his own. Usually he spent it reading his meager supply of books or daydreaming about being anywhere but there. He became quite adept at escapism and found himself creating stories and things in his head as a result. It was Ryselle that suggested he write them down sometime. Right before he left she gave him a slim green book and an Infinite Inkpen to help begin his hobby.

"_The book will add pages as you need them. I am unsure of its capacity, but after three years I have yet to run out. Write what you feel, Harry. I believe it will serve you well."_

Harry took her advice and wrote, pouring all the anguish and pain of Sirius' death and the soul-wrenching agony of Hermione's rejection onto the pages in stark, black letters. It was cathartic, and it became easier to accept things as time passed. His writing took various forms as he tried stream-of-consciousness, editorial, story format, poetry, he even tried his hand at drawing. In the end he found it was easier to write it all in a story, as if it happened to someone else, but was more therapeutic to just say what he was thinking. Sometimes he even wrote to Sirius and his parents as if he could send them a letter.

Time passed, and before they knew it, the time to return to Hogwarts was almost upon them. Schedules were due to arrive any day and Molly told them to be ready for a trip to Diagon Alley to pick up their books and supplies for the year. No one was more surprised than Ron when Ginny informed him and Harry that she would be joining them as a sixth year.

"Bloody hell, Ginny! How'd you manage that?"

"Study, Ronald, and a lot of shady experiences with you lot. I had to do something to keep up last year and Hermione noticed I was ahead of the fourth years. She suggested I ask Headmaster Dumbledore if there was something I could do to ease the boredom."

"So he skipped you a grade?"

"Actually, that was my idea. I figured it would be less confusing than taking classes with the Time Turner."

Harry nodded. "I can see that."

"Blimey!" exclaimed Ron. "Now we have to put up with you in our classes?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Put up with me, Ronald? Whatever do you mean by that?"

Harry cringed at the deceptively sweet tones of her voice. Like Hermione, the youngest Weasely was very calm and very quiet when truly angry. Maybe the better part of valor would be to leave. He longingly gazed at the stairs.

"I mean we have to deal with you bothering us even more than you already do! Bloody hell, Ginny! Like going to the same school with you isn't bad enough."

"Maybe you might benefit from it, Ron. At least I was able to get an Outstanding on my NEWTS." Ron's face flushed with anger. "Who knows, if you have both Hermione and I tutoring you something may actually sink into that thick skull of yours!"

"Er… I think I have some… homework to do. Yeah, uh… I'll see you guys later." Harry quickly made his escape before things deteriorated further. He slunk away unnoticed as the argument between the two siblings escalated.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Ginny? I'm just as capable a student as the rest of you!"

"HA! The only reason you got the scores you did was because Hermione forced you to study last year, Ronald. And don't think I forgot the hassle you gave her about it. The only time I've ever seen you be a bigger prat is this summer!"

"Don't start with me, Ginevra." Two can play the name game. "You have no idea what it's like to have your best friend…"

"Shut it, Ron! I know exactly what you're going to say and you need to stop. In case you haven't noticed, your actions have succeeded in driving away one of your so-called best friends and if you don't get your act together, will probably drive the other away as well. Maybe you should spend some time this summer trying to figure out how not to be such a selfish PRAT!"

"Selfish? I'm selfish? She's the one that's selfish. I loved her for years and she rejects me for someone who doesn't even know she existed until two months ago. She didn't even give me a chance, Ginny. Harry. It's always Harry."

"It's always been Harry, Ron," Ginny interrupted. "They've loved each other for years and you know it! Why do you have to be such an arse? You could just tell her you lied about Harry's feelings. You know. The truth?"

"If she's so in love with him then she should get her act together and talk to him. It's not my problem if she can't be a true Gryffindor about the man she so supposedly loves."

Ginny barely managed to control her urge to hex Ron within an inch of his life. This was not going to be solved at all easily, she knew. Hermione would have to talk to Harry and then they would have to deal with Ron. She cringed at the imagery of what would happen once the two Gryffindors got together. Her brother was going to be insufferable. At least she would be there to lend a helping hand. Knowing she was on the edge of losing her temper, Ginny gave the older Weasley a withering glare and then stomped off to her room.

Meanwhile, Harry was outside on his Firebolt, thinking deeply about the situation between his best friends. The thing that he was having difficulty figuring out was what exactly happened to drive Ron and Hermione apart. If she loved him and he loved her, there shouldn't be a problem, right? His mind flashed back to the endless number of arguments they had over the years. Maybe not. Ron must have said something really stupid and hurtful to drive her away from the Burrow. He thought about asking the red-haired boy, but it was none of his business. They needed to work things out for themselves. Interfering in one of Ron and Hermione's conflicts was a task for someone far more foolish and insane than even Harry. He'd rather face Voldemort. Ah well. They always seemed to make up somehow. He refused to think about what would happen once they did.

Harry pushed all thoughts of the conflict out of his mind and lost himself in flight, determined to enjoy the remainder of the summer.

The succeeding days passed quietly if a bit uncomfortably in places. Harry was doing his best not to hate Ron for hurting Hermione, and Ron was trying hard not to hate Harry for winning her heart. Both of them were behaving like prats in Ginny's opinion, but nothing she could say would improve the situation. Especially with Ron avoiding them like he was. After their fight he had started spending more time away from the Burrow. He would disappear for large sections of time in the name of helping out the twins even though she knew the boys only employed him a few days a week. Ah well. Better that she let well enough alone until they could return to school and work things out with Hermione. They all avoided speaking of it, and things were relatively normal for the remaining time of the summer break.

Class schedules arrived the week before school began. Ginny, Harry, and Ron were eating breakfast when a Hogwarts owl arrived bearing three envelopes. Ginny eagerly tore hers open, anxious to see what classes she'd been accepted into. Ron's response was more indifferent. He merely opened the envelope, took a glance, and set it aside as if it was nothing important. Harry was a bit more reluctant. He knew once he opened the envelope he'd have written confirmation that his opportunity to become an Auror was lost.

"Come on, Harry! Open it up. Let's see what you got?" Ginny was anxious to compare her schedule with that of her brother and his best friend.

"I… Here. You open it. I'm not sure I want to look."

"Oh bugger it all, Harry! You're acting as if it's the end of the world. I'm sure there will be other opportunities for you."

"Maybe. But I was really hoping…"

"I thought you decided you didn't want to become an Auror," interrupted Ron rudely.

"I… I'm not sure I do. But… I don't know. Maybe I just want to have the possibility open."

"Like you won't have plenty."

Ginny glared at her brother. "Okay, Harry. Moment of truth." She tore open the envelope and quickly perused the contents. "Yes! Harry, you have to look at this!" With a broad grin she handed the paper to the startled Gryffindor.

His eyes scanned the page.

**Sixth Year Schedule for Harry Potter**

Potions for Advanced Students

Intermediate Transfiguration

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Magical Combat and Defense

Magical Herbology

Apparition for Beginners

Advanced Charms

Independent Study

He read over the page again, just to make sure he was seeing it right. Potions? How the bloody hell did he manage to get into Snape's NEWT level Potions class? And what was an Independent Study?

"See?"

He nodded, still in disbelief.

"So it's still an option, Harry. You can do it if you choose to."

Again he nodded. Admittedly, he still wasn't completely sure he wanted to be an Auror, but he was glad the opportunity was not closed to him. Defending the world against darkness was something that appealed to him. It appealed to that "saving people" part of himself and he was not sure it would ever stop. Part of him also wanted to chuck it all and go traveling like he said. It would all depend on what happened when it was all over. Assuming he survived, he thought darkly.

Harry told himself after getting his OWL results that being an Auror wasn't a big deal, but now that he had a chance, he realized just how wrong he'd been. He would have to buckle down now and make his education his priority. Hermione would be a great help there. For the first time in all his years at Hogwarts he found himself appreciative of his best friend's organization and determination to help him and Ron. They were prats about it far too often and still she helped them. Now it was time to utilize that help in every way possible. _And it wouldn't be a bad thing to be able to study with her_, said the voice in his head.

The three students exchanged schedules, and it was with great surprise that Ron discovered he too had made it into Snape's Potions class. His reaction was less than enthusiastic.

"Bugger. I don't want to study Potions with Snape."

"You can always ask for a different class, Ron."

"Yeah, but what would I take? Besides, you and Hermione will be in there. How can I abandon you to the tender mercies of Malfoy and his goons?"

Harry laughed. "I'm sure we'll survive, Ron, but it would be great if you stayed. At the very least just for the look on Snape's face when you walk into his classroom."

"Blimey, that would be SO worth it. I bet the bastard will be ready to blow a casket."

"Gasket, Ron."

"Oh. Right. So who do you think Dumbledore is going to get to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?"

"I'm hoping they'll ask Professor Lupin back. He was the best teacher we had."

"Ugh. You know that's not going to happen. Especially now."

"Oh. Right." Harry had forgotten that many of the werewolves were siding with Voldemort. Most Dark creatures were. "Well, as long as it's not Umbridge, I really could care less."

"Here here, mate. That ruddy bint really needed an adjustment."

"I guess the centaurs helped a lot with that."

"No kidding."

The conversation quickly died and things returned to the same uncomfortable silence as before. Despite all his bluster, Ron truly did want to remain friends with Harry and Hermione no matter what happened. It was unfortunate that he couldn't accept the idea of her not being in love with him. His attitude threatened to rip the Trio apart. In many ways, it already had.

"I wonder what 'Mione's schedule is," Harry wondered softly.

"I'll let you know when I get her next owl, Harry." Ginny smiled reassuringly at him before turning back to her book. The rest of the day passed quietly, interrupted only by the antics of the twins and Molly Weasley's plans to take them to Diagon Alley.

Back at the school, Severus Snape was glaring at his class list as if it were the Dark Lord himself. Harry Potter. Ron Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Bloody hell. Not to mention the Granger chit and the youngest Weasley. How could Albus do this to him? Wasn't it enough that he had to remain a Death Eater and professor for the benefit of the Order? He honestly wasn't terribly fond of teaching. He loved Potions, yes. It was drilling the facts into his students' pathetic and easily distracted minds that he hated. Maybe he should take an apprentice. That way he would have someone else to grade the little buggers' papers – the horrifying works of literary rubbish that they were.

He was positive the old man had it in for him. His first meeting with the smiling wizard and it was to tell him that, once again, he'd chosen someone else for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. And that he would have several undesirables in his Potions class this year. What a ruined day…

"She's really quite knowledgeable, Severus. I'm sure the two of you will find you have a great deal in common."

Great. Now the headmaster was trying to set him up with another teacher. Albus Dumbledore – Matchmaker Extraordinaire. At least he could comfort himself with the fact that it was highly unlikely that she'd be at the school for more than a year. Maybe if he found a replacement for himself…

"There was one other thing I wanted to speak with you about, Severus."

_Uh oh._ "What?"

"Why don't you have a seat? Lemon drop?"

He gritted his teeth. "No thank you. What do you want?"

The headmaster smiled pleasantly, which always boded ill for him, and picked up a sheet of parchment. "Is it safe to assume you have looked at the results of the OWL exams?"

Snape smirked. "Indeed I have. It is unfortunate the Gryffindor Know-it-all will be subjecting me to her presence, but not altogether unexpected. However, the lack of Weasley, Potter, and," he shuddered, "Longbottom more than makes up for it."

"Hm. It is unfortunate you feel that way, Severus. I am afraid what I have to say will not be welcome."

A chill ran up the Slytherin professor's spine. His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Severus, I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you to allow students who achieved an Exceeds Expectations into your NEWT class."

"WHAT?" Snape leaped to his feet, outraged.

"Now Severus, sit down for a moment and listen." Rarely did the headmaster turn a stern gaze to one of his teachers, but when he did it was effective. The outraged man sat. "NEWT level potions is necessary for entry into the Auror training program at the Ministry. I would like several people to have the opportunity to participate in the program next year as preparation for the coming conflict."

"Potter," said Snape flatly.

"Yes. As well as Misters Weasley and Longbottom."

"NO! Potter I can tolerate, but Weasley and Longbottom belong as far as possible away from my classroom. I will NOT have them buggering up my NEWT class because you feel sorry for them."

"Severus…"

"Absolutely not, Albus. Those two are a menace. I honestly find myself stunned that they were able complete the exam, much less attain an Exceeds Expectations. The potions we will be creating are very volatile and the last thing I need is an inattentive nitwit and an inept moron buggering up the lesson and blowing us all to hell!"

"Severus, they did receive the appropriate marks."

"I imagine it was only because Granger spent most of the year pushing them to study. Not to mention forcing them into those late-night cram sessions we were to know nothing about. It's a miracle they had time to go to the Department of Mysteries with that study schedule."

"Severus…"

He sighed. "Albus. Please. You cannot ask me to do this. Their very presences will drag down the level of my class. The incredible risk of someone getting truly hurt alone should be enough to persuade you to find another way. They are far too incompetent to be in that class."

The elderly wizard sighed. "I wish I could share your opinion, Severus, but I believe you to be far too biased." He held up a hand. "No, let me finish. You despise Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville – all Gryffindors – all of the house you swore to hate with your dying breath. You hate Harry because of what his father did to you. I cannot allow you to jeopardize the future of the Wizarding world over a petty hatred that should have died years ago."

"Jeopardize the Wizarding world? You certainly have a high opinion of them, Albus. Potter I can see. And Granger. But Weasley and Longbottom?"

"They were there with Harry at the Ministry, Severus. I have every reason to believe they will continue to stand by him. They need this training."

"So ask the Ministry to make an exception."

"I have. They have agreed to allow them basic Auror training during their seventh year, despite the age requirement. However. They refuse to budge on the academic requirements. If they are to train like Aurors, they must qualify like Aurors."

"This is an argument I am not going to win, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Severus. But I would like your support on this. Things will be far more pleasant."

Severus stood up. "For you, perhaps. Putting those two in my class will merely exacerbate the hell that is my life! Unfortunately things will not get better for me until Potter graduates and fulfills his destiny. Only then can I finally leave this blasted place." He whirled to leave.

"Severus." Reluctantly, he turned back to face his mentor. "All I am asking is that you give Harry and the others a chance to prove themselves. If they cannot succeed in your classroom, then it is on them. But I believe that the events of last year have served to emphasize the seriousness of our situation."

"Fine."

"It will not be all bad, my boy. I believe the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will more than make up for any difficulty you have in your classes."

That was the second time he mentioned the new teacher. Snape eyed the old wizard suspiciously. "What do you mean?" Surely it wasn't Tonks or someone else equally annoying.

"The woman I've selected is rather extraordinary. I am sure you will get along famously." It was disturbing to see the headmaster chortle and his eyes twinkle madly with glee. Yes. He was trying to set him up.

Snape gritted his teeth. He was going to regret this, but… "Who is it?"

Dumbledore grinned mischievously. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait to meet her until the staff meeting, Severus. But I appreciate your enthusiasm." He held out a small, foil wrapped candy. "Chocolate Knut?"

Knowing he was not going to be permitted to leave the office without some form of candy, Severus resignedly accepted the treat and quickly made his escape. _Bloody wonderful_. Not only did he miss out on getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again; it had been given to some woman Albus thought would be perfect for him. Remembering back to the last time the headmaster tried to match make, he couldn't help but shudder. Never in his life had he been so disturbed.

_Bugger_.

It was useless to resist, he knew, but that did not mean he needed to make it at all easy for the headmaster. Determined to do everything in his power to avoid the romantic traps he sensed before him, Severus steeled himself to spend the rest of the year ignoring the new professor. He would not simply capitulate because Albus felt sorry for him and thought he'd become a "nicer person" if he started dating. He had no time or inclination in his life for romance, and the sooner he made that clear, the better it would be.

He discovered that it was far easier said than done.

Later that day, shortly before the first staff meeting, Albus Dumbledore gave Ryselle a tour of the school, sharing with her its secrets so she would not be confounded by its odd behaviour.

"It really is quite brilliant. The Founders gave the school the ability to adapt, but also added a bit of randomness to the construction. It is rather simple to navigate once you learn the general layout of the school and timings of the stairs. Teachers, however, have the ability to direct certain things in order to protect the students and the school." He stopped in front of a painting of a young wizard, nodding in greeting. The nod was returned, absently, as the painting stared at the new professor.

"This is Haldis Armenthar, the first Head Boy of Hogwarts. He stands guard over the teachers' entrance to the secret tunnels throughout the school. Haldis, if you would please open the door." Albus' eyes twinkled in amusement. "Heh hem! Haldis, the door."

The boy jumped, startled, and then flung the door open with an apology. Still smiling, Ryselle gave the painting a quick wink.

"Few teachers know the entirety of the tunnels, as they prefer to know the routes to the standard locations – classrooms, bedrooms, and such. I encourage you to explore them and learn the castle as well as you can. You will be a large part of the defense of the school, and I would prefer someone in addition to myself know how things are arranged."

Ryselle nodded in agreement. There was plenty of time. School didn't start for another week. She should be able to do a lot of exploring in the mean time.

"Is there a map?"

"Only one map has ever been successfully created, and it is in the possession of Harry Potter at this time."

She looked at him curiously.

"Harry's father and friends – the Mauraders – created the map during their time here. It adapts to the layout of the school and will reveal the location of any person in it."

"Why do you let a student keep that?" Even if it did belong to Harry, it seemed to her it could be better used by the teachers.

"Harry is known for accomplishing rather…unusual tasks. He appears to have a great need for it."

"I see." Maybe she could create another one like it. She would have to see if Harry would allow her access to the map. "Where to next?"

The headmaster showed her the locations of all the classrooms and rooms, plus the teachers' quarters and his office. The teacher's lounge was empty, but the kitchen was full of house elves thrilled to meet Hogwarts' newest professor. The one named Dobby, who wore more clothes than she had ever seen on a house elf, enthusiastically questioned her about her favorite foods and beverages, promising that she would be treated to them as often as possible.

Elsewhere in the castle, Severus Snape stalked through the halls, doing his best to avoid Dumbledore and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was not about to open himself to Albus Dumbledore's matchmaking until there was no escape. Bugger. He couldn't believe he'd been passed over again for the position he knew he was eminently qualified for, and once again there was a stranger in the castle he wanted nothing to do with. Dumbledore should know better than to have hired another strange woman. Umbridge was a nightmare last year. Of course, if she was like any of the other teachers, he would only have to put up with her presence for a year and then he could try and persuade the headmaster to let him change positions. Again. He prayed it would be a quiet year.

Knowing Voldemort, that was a hopeless wish. Ah well. Pushing the Dark Lord from his mind, he turned his thoughts to the coming year and the disaster that was to be his class. Potter and Weasley would no doubt spend the year slacking off and getting into trouble as usual. Longbottom would stun them all with his mind-blowing levels of incompetence, and Draco would continue to try and become the top student in the school, which left Granger to torment them with her know-all behaviour. At least the Weasley girl was competent and unobtrusive. Still, it promised to be another year made especially for him by the imps of the perverse. _Maybe Voldemort will just kill me_, he thought hopefully.

After the Dark Lord's failure to gain the prophecy at the Ministry of Magic and the capture of a number of his more influential Death Eaters, Voldemort was not in a pleasant mood. The only reason Snape had not been included on the raid was the importance of his position as a spy for the Death Eaters. He could not be risked for what was supposed to be a simple retrieval operation. The idea that a small group of fifth year students could outwit half a dozen of the evil wizard's greatest servants was unfathomable. Even Snape had to admit he was impressed by Potter's success at staying alive long enough for the Order to get there. The boy was lucky he managed to put together his odd comments about Black. _Not that he would ever appreciate it_, he thought bitterly. He was well aware how the rest of the Order and the student body of Hogwarts viewed him in general. Sometimes it almost bothered him, but he was not a Hufflepuff to be concerned with the mindless chatter of a bunch of immature little gits. Potter and his sycophants were the worst of the lot.

He hoped Potter would fulfill his so-called destiny soon. He was getting tired of putting up with the bloody idiocy that characterized Voldemort's current lackeys. Bellatrix Lestrange was the most pathetic. Her mindless devotion and unspeakable cruelty wore on his nerves, and even he got tired of hearing how she killed her cousin. He hated Black, but did not rejoice at his death. Well, not too much. From what he heard it was the arrogant git's fault that Lestrange got in her lucky shot. He was not being serious as usual and opened himself to a Stun spell at the worst possible moment. He wondered what happened to the former Gryffindor after he fell behind the Veil.

Voices intruded upon his musing, and he realized the headmaster and new teacher were about to turn the corner in front of him. Having no desire to encounter either of them, he quickly ducked into an alcove and quietly watched their approach.

He was not expecting what he saw.

Headmaster Dumbledore turned the corner, chatting animatedly with a young woman who looked scarcely old enough to have graduated from Hogwarts, much less be a teacher there. She was truly beautiful, he saw, with rich, dark hair, porcelain skin, and violet eyes. Her robes were simple but colorful, matching her eyes, and she wore a heavy gold amulet on a chain around her neck. He thought the symbol looked familiar. He was so absorbed in watching her that he failed to notice Headmaster Dumbledore's slight nod in his direction. He saw the woman turn her head toward him, however, and quickly ducked behind the pillar. He stayed still until he could hear their voices rounding the corner far ahead.

_Bloody hell_, he thought. _Where did Dumbledore find her?_ It was rare for the headmaster to hire young wizards to teach at Hogwarts, him having been the only exception to that rule since he took over the school. From her level of poise and apparent expertise he speculated she was a bit older than he had been when selected for the Potions position. He wondered who she was. He found himself actually interested in listening to Dumbledore's introduction to the teachers in a few hours. He could wait until then. In the meantime, it was time to plan for the coming school year. Especially Advanced Potions with the Terrible Trio. Maybe he could get away with making them work on "special assignments". Hmmm.

The next couple of hours passed far too quickly and soon it was time for the dreaded Staff Meeting.

Staff meetings were mandatory for all teachers. Unless Voldemort summoned him, Severus was bound to attend the gathering and input his opinion, which would promptly be ignored. When he walked in the room, he noticed the dark-haired woman sitting in the corner reading a large tome. He dismissed her from his mind, refusing to acknowledge her existence. He was not about to give Albus the satisfaction. He still thought she looked far too young to be the new professor. She returned the favor and completely ignored his presence, a fact that made him almost grateful. The two waited in silence until the rest of the professors arrived. Albus came last, grinning mischievously at Severus when he entered the room.

"Welcome back to another fine year at Hogwarts my friends. Hopefully this year is a good one…"

"The likelihood of that is virtually nonexistent, Albus," Severus interjected in a smooth, deep voice. "Perhaps we could move on to more important matters? I, unlike the rest of you, have a great many things to take care of before the students arrive."

"Of course. Of course, my boy. Let's get this started then. I am sure all of you will be delighted to know that the position of High Inquisitor has been eliminated from Hogwarts. The Ministry has issued a formal apology, and any long-term punishments assigned by the former High Inquisitor have been rescinded.

Minerva McGonagall's eyes lit up and she threw Snape a gleeful smile. "Then we have our Seeker again! That's wonderful, Albus."

The head of Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Is that blasted game all you think about, Minerva?"

"Not at all, Severus. I simply remember how much Mr. Potter has enjoyed the game over the years. He will be glad to know he is no longer banned."

"Yes, well, let us continue this line of discussion later. Next on my list…" the headmaster pulled out a three-foot long list and began searching for something. "Ah yes! This year we will be accepting a number of new students from other schools and private tutors. Rest assured they have been adequately tested, Severus, and that each will be Sorted appropriately along with the First Years."

"Is this because we're lost a lot of students, Albus?" Leave it to Flitwick to wonder something like that.

"No, Filius, we have lost surprisingly few for the upcoming year. Most of them, unfortunately, have been in Slytherin House, but the majority of our students are returning. The governors responded to a petition made several years ago for an increase in available positions at the school, and have finally chosen to pass the resolution."

_Probably because Lucius was the one opposing it_, thought Severus.

"There will be two new students per House per year, which will increase each year until class size is at a satisfactory level."

"And who is going to teach all these students, Albus? I for one do not have the leisure to teach many more than I already do."

"That will be taken care of, Minerva, but you must have patience this year. If things go well, I believe my next petition will be easily passed."

There was some muttering, but for the most part the teachers seemed unconcerned. Severus figured the reason many home-schooled students were coming to Hogwarts was because of the safety of the grounds. Everyone knew the school was designed to be unbreechable, and with Albus Dumbledore in residence, who wouldn't want to live there?

"Next, I have news of one of our students. Ginevra Weasley will all be advancing to the next higher grade. She has proven herself ready to move up and I believe she will best be served by such a change."

Surprisingly it was Filius Flitwick that was the loudest objector. "That's unprecedented, Albus. We can't just move a student into the next year! How is she supposed to learn the things from the missed year? There are far too many lessons required by the higher classes to skiv off an entire year of practice and studying!"

"Miss Wealsey has already spent a great deal of time with those lessons, Filius. She is the prime example of one of our students who has spent the year immersed in lessons above her year. In addition, she has agreed to limited usage of a Time Turner to complete all of her work within the first three months of the term. I am confident she will succeed admirably. Do not forget, she has received the appropriate OWL scores. I believe passing her over a year is the best option to provide her with the chance to learn on the level she requires."

Vector objected. "Why not give her the Time Turner for the full year and let her take any class she wants within her year? It worked for Miss Granger."

Severus raised an eyebrow at that.

"Miss Granger had difficulties with the temporal shifting, Eurydice. I believe it would be far better to challenge Miss Weasley directly than by placing her into an alternate reality for the next year."

"Temporal shifting is dangerous besides, Professor Vector." A soft melodious voice interjected the comment, drawing attention to the figure in the corner. "I do not believe that is something we should be fooling around with during these unstable times. It is bad enough that we are allowing her to use the Time Turner for three months."

Severus sneered at the young woman. Who did she think she is? "Your input is fascinating, Miss, but I highly doubt you are qualified to make such a recommendation to the headmaster."

She stepped forward into the light. "Yes, actually, I am, professor. My master and I have done a great deal of study on the effects of time and its manipulation. You would be surprised at how much it can affect things."

Severus found himself stunned for a moment as his eyes met those of the mysterious woman. He felt almost a touch of recognition, as if they had met before and had known each other for a lifetime. He mentally slapped himself.

_Master_? "I'm certain I can imagine," he commented snidely.

"Good, good," interjected Dumbledore. "It is fortunate we all understand why we cannot go mucking about with the timeline right now. Next on my list is the selection of our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Severus found himself on the wrong end of a grin from the headmaster.

Bugger.

"I would like to present the Lady Ryselle Spellsinger of Romania." He gestured to the young woman. "She has graciously accepted my invitation to teach here for the duration of this year, although I am hoping we might persuade her to stay a bit longer." The last part was said with a wink.

Snape found himself wishing for something to bang his head against. Bloody wonderful. Now Albus had yet another opportunity to try and get him to be more "understanding" by finding love or some other tripe such as that with the beautiful and exotic Romanian professor. This was going to be hell.

The meeting broke up shortly after that into an impromptu welcoming party for the new professor. Severus gratefully made his escape, determined to leave before she turned those amazing eyes on him and trapped him into doing something foolish. Like talking to her. He made a mental note to avoid the Defense Against the Dark Arts section as much as possible.

This was going to be an interesting year.

Back at the Burrow, preparations were underway for a whirlwind trip to Diagon Alley. Harry and the Weasleys left shortly after breakfast. The morning of their excursion was spent in a state of total haste as Molly rushed them through breakfast and getting ready. Harry didn't understand why she was in such a hurry, but within an hour of waking up, they were ready to Floo.

The first stop was, of course, Flourish and Blott's. The store was packed with students and parents, many of which recognized the infamous Harry Potter. He no sooner walked into the store than he had a number of people congratulating him on his fine defense of the Ministry and the capture of several Death Eaters. They assured him they knew all along that he wasn't a lunatic, and had great faith in his ability to defeat "You Know Who." Ginny and Ron found themselves shoved aside by the crowd. As a result, the elder Weasley stormed off, determined not to watch his best friend wallow in his fame.

Ginny was far more pragmatic and simply went about her business, selecting her books and putting them in the enchanted bag her mother purchased for them. Harry and Ron were surprised to find out she was in many of their classes. She thought they were being ridiculous if they expected she would have a very different schedule. She supposed Ron was still having difficulty accepting the fact that she was a Sixth Year now. Prat. Now where did he get off to?

Harry politely informed the adoring wizards and witches that he needed to continue purchasing his school supplies and they finally left him alone. But not before he had a Lockheart flashback thanks to several requests for an autograph. It didn't help that his fellow students were looking on with amusement at the whole situation. They'd been attending school with him for years. Besides a few notable exceptions, the Hogwarts kids were no longer completely awed by him. Unfortunately it appeared today was the day all the first and second year students decided to shop. He was finally able to get back to the task at hand, and quickly found all the books on his list.

Ron, in the meantime, was lurking in a corner of the store, trying to get his temper under control. He should have expected people to jump all over Harry and start fawning all over him thanks to the Ministry. All summer they've been releasing statements to the Prophet about how grateful they were to Harry for stopping Voldemort again (as if he did it alone) and how sorry they were for ever doubting him or Headmaster Dumbledore.

The rest of the day was tense, with Ginny angry at Ron for being resentful of Harry and the people fawning all over him. Things hardly improved once they returned to the Burrow, and each of them spent the next few days apart, occupying his or herself and avoiding the others.

It was with a great deal of relief to them all that they headed back to Hogwarts.

The area around Platform nine and three quarters was swarming with students as Ron, Ginny, and Harry made their way toward the Hogwarts Express. All three were looking forward to the coming year, despite everything that was going on, and happily boarded the train to claim their usual car for the ride to the school.

Luna Lovegood joined them a short while later, but Hermione did not make an appearance. Harry was worried about her. The problems she and Ron had over the summer obviously affected her a lot worse than anyone could have expected. He was almost tempted to talk with Ginny about it, but he had no desire to listen to her insistent protestations that Hermione was in love with him.

The ride was uneventful, surprisingly so considering Malfoy and his lackey's had yet to make their annual appearance. Ron noticed in the Prefects meeting that the Slytherin was unusually silent, and wondered at the change. _ The bloody prat's probably plotting something right now,_ he thought. He glared at the boy when he wasn't looking, and spent the rest of the meeting avoiding Hermione.

She didn't look well. Her face was wan and shadowed, showing signs of the kind of exhaustion resulting from sleeplessness. He felt a surge of guilt at the thought. He knew he should apologize to her for what he'd said, but something prevented him from forming the words. He knew Harry was in love with her, and that he seemed to be suffering as much as Hermione. He wondered at that, considering he was the one their best friend was in love with. His ire rose at the thought. Just once he wanted to succeed where Harry did not. Hermione was a bit annoying at times he had to admit, but she was brilliant, kind, friendly, and willing to bend the rules if necessary. Sure they fought, but he couldn't understand why that would get in the way. Wasn't that just another form of passion? He remembered how she looked at the Yule Ball their fourth year. Harry hadn't noticed, having eyes only for Cho Chang. While he mooned after the Ravenclaw, Ron sat back and admired their best friend. She was beautiful, and Harry never even noticed.

After their second year, Ron could have sworn Hermione liked him as more than a friend. The uncomfortable handshake at the end year feast was his first indication. Afterwards it seemed she was at times awkward around him, like she was feeling shy. How that turned into her loving Harry he couldn't figure out. His face darkened at the thought. Once again Harry got what he wanted, leaving Ron alone to be the faithful sidekick everyone thought him. Well no more. He wasn't sure why Harry was so down, but it was obvious him and Hermione had still made no attempt to get together. Ginny told him it was his fault, but he found himself not caring. If Harry wanted her, he would have to work for it this time.

After the Prefects meeting, Hermione followed Ron back to their car and sat down next to Ginny. She was very quiet, but her presence seemed to soothe Harry a great deal. Ron felt a surge of resentment at the fact, but quashed it when he realized how idiotic it was. It was the beginning of a new year, and Ron really didn't want to spend it alienated from his two best friends. Glancing over at Harry, he decided he really didn't want to spend the year in silent hostility with Harry and Hermione. Not to mention the hassle Ginny would give him if they did. Swallowing his pride, he cleared his throat and decided to make the first move.

"So, anyone wonder what happened to Malfoy?"

Harry looked surprised at the question for a moment, and then chuckled. "He has been conspicuously absent from our presence this year. I wonder why that is."

"Maybe he's afraid Ginny will kick him in the shins again." Hermione's voice was soft and hesitant.

"More likely he's afraid it will bruise this time, marring the perfection of his pasty white skin."

"Did you know Split-toed Yellow Beaks like to use brambleberries in their nests?" Ron rolled his eyes at Luna's off the wall comment.

"Fascinating, Luna. Really." Ignoring her, he turned back to the others. "Anyone watch the last Cannons Quidditch match against the Silver Griffons? They completely destroyed them!"

Hermione and Ginny shared a look as the two boys were off discussing their favorite subject. Things might not be completely repaired between the three best friends, but it was a start.

The train arrived at the school, and all the students were hustled into carriages. If they wondered why there were aurors placed around the platform, it was not mentioned. All the students were aware of the dangers they faced these days. Especially Harry. He knew more than any of them. Hopefully no one else would ever find out like he had. Glancing over at his friends, the words of the prophecy flashed in his mind. Over the summer he had resolved to do whatever it took to protect his friends and the rest of the Wizarding world. He swore he would not fail.

The trip up to the castle was uneventful, and upon arrival, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny entered the Great Hall with the rest of the students. The Hall was decorated, as usual, in a fantastical manner – this year the candles that floated overhead were silver and gold, with an opalescent sparkling mist flowing between them. The tables were adorned with otherworldly arrangements of iridescent flowers in all the colors of the rainbow set in sparkling crystal vases. Runners the color of each House ran the length of the tables adding yet more vibrancy to the décor. The first year students were easy to spot by their youthful faces and looks of wonder. The four friends looked at each other in amusement, remembering their own feelings of awe upon seeing the Great Hall for the first time. The teachers, who chatted amongst themselves while the students got situated, already occupied the seats at the Head table. Harry was surprised to see Ryselle Spellsinger seated among them. She was next to Snape, which was apparently the traditional spot for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Interesting.

The students quickly seated themselves, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood up, as he had numerous years before, garbed in purple and yellow robes, with a friendly smile and merry twinkle in his eye.

"Bramble, brumble, and balderdash!" The students immediately quieted down. "Welcome to Hogwarts my friends. This year promises to be a different one from the last. It is my pleasure to welcome a new group of students into the fold this year. Without further ado, let the Sorting begin! Minerva?"

His brief words made the new students feel at ease, and then Professor McGonagall began the Sorting. It was at that point Ron noticed something odd about one of the new students.

"Oy, Harry. You recognize him?"

Harry followed Ron's gaze to a young man standing in line for the Sorting. Odd. He didn't look like a first year. It took a moment for him to place the boy, but he was able to remember.

"Yeah. He was one of the students visiting for the final bit of the Triwizard Tournament. I thought he was a home-schooled student." Harry frowned. "He's not a first-year. What's he doing here?"

"He's probably a transfer student," interjected Ginny.

The two boys looked at each other. "Transfer student?"

"Yeah, you know – a student that has transferred from another school?"

"They can do that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course they can, Ron! They just have to get permission from the headmasters of both schools. Or the headmaster and their parents if they don't go to a school. Plus there has to be a slot available."

Harry looked at her curiously. "What do you mean, 'a slot available'?"

"Each of the three schools has a certain number of students they can have before they need to hire more teachers. Classes are supposed to be no larger than 20 students. Hogwarts is nearly at that limit for the number of teachers we have. They're going to have to hire more teachers to be able to handle more students. I bet Headmaster Dumbledore talked to the governors this summer about expanding the school."

"Bloody hell. The last thing we need is more students. And teachers. Especially teachers."

"Oh get off it, Ron! The school used to have a much higher population than it does now. Or haven't you noticed it's kind of empty?" Ginny seemed exceptionally irritated with her brother these days.

Ron shrugged. "I always figured it was supposed to be that way. You know, give that haunted castle impression and all."

"Oh bugger, Ron. You are such a git! You've been friends with Hermione for how long and you still haven't read Hogwarts : a History yet have you?"

"Ugh. I have better things to do with my time, Ginny."

"Well if you had," said Hermione, "you would know that Hogwarts was built to accommodate 1120 students – 40 per year, per House. The population simply fell over the years as the Wizarding world spread out more and the English domain grew smaller. There was a much broader array of classes back then, and things were more mixed up. Classes still consisted of 20 students, but the composition varied depending on electives. Not everyone had close to the same classes like we do today."

"There must have been a lot more teachers back then."

"Professors and their assistants. Some classes were taught by sixth and seventh year students that apprenticed to a teacher."

"That must have been amazing," sighed Ginny. "Can you imagine all those people in the halls, chatting away about magic?"

"And Quidditch," interjected Harry with a grin.

Ginny laughed. "Yes. And Quidditch. It must have been amazing."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Give me a break."

Harry barely stopped himself from responding snidely to Ron's comment. He found himself easily irritated these days with the red-haired boy's tendency towards sarcastic hostility, and was forced to make a concerted effort not to snap at his friend. Despite all their problems, Harry still considered Ron one of his best friends. But lately it had been getting more difficult to bear that in mind.

"Is there a reason you're being such a royal prat or are you just feeling particularly surly this evening?" Ginny glared at her brother, annoyed with his behaviour. She noticed Harry's irritation with Ron, and felt someone had to say something. Ever since the disaster over the summer, Ron and Harry had been very cautious with what they said around each other. It was driving her to distraction.

"I just don't find the ins and outs of Hogwarts past terribly interesting, that's all, Ginny. There are better things to talk about. Like Quidditch."

Ginny laughed as Hermione mouthed the last two words along with Ron.

"Excuse me, might I join you?"

Ginny looked up into the deepest most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen. A young man stood next to her, dressed in the plain robes of a new student. He was incredibly handsome, having lightly tanned skin, sapphire eyes and perfect pink lips curved into an open smile. His blue tie emphasized the color of the intense, fathomless orbs, and the dim light brought out the sparkle of amusement and joy. His light brown hair was short, with longer bangs falling to just above his gorgeous eyes. His gaze was fixed on her, and she thought she detected a flare of interest. His smile was friendly, and she could not help but admire his perfect, white teeth. Flustered, she nodded quickly, hoping she didn't look like an idiot.

"Many thanks, dear lady." He sat down next to her, sending the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. "My name is Julian. Julian Aldread."

She gazed at him stupidly for a moment before extending her hand in response. "Er… Ginny Weasley."

"Enchanted, m'lady…"

Another hand stuck itself between them. "Ron Weasley."

Julian looked up to see her very irritated brother looming over them. Still smiling in a friendly manner, he took his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ron."

Ginny tried to hide her annoyance at her brother's rude behaviour. She regained her composure and quickly introduced the rest of her friends. He nodded to each of them and shook their hands, giving Harry only a slight second glance before greeting the next person. She found herself relieved he was polite enough not to start fawning all over The Boy Who Lived.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands for attention. "Once again I must welcome you to Hogwarts, my friends. I hope this year will be full of fun and magic!" The students chuckled feebly. "A few things before we begin our feast. The Dark Forest is, as usual, still forbidden to students. Due to the increasing hazards in the outside, all students are required to be indoors and in their House areas by ten o'clock. Any student caught outside after ten will be given a minimum one week detention." Some mutters accompanied his announcement. "This is not to punish you, but to protect you from the evils that have revealed themselves during the past few years. I would also like to introduce the newest addition to Hogwarts' teaching staff. Ryselle Spellsinger has kindly agreed to take the position of Defense Against Dark Arts professor for the coming year." Ryselle stood up and gave the students a slight bow. "On behalf of the students and staff I would like to welcome her to our school."

"I wonder how long she's going to last?" muttered Ron as she resumed her seat next to Professor Snape.

"Ron!" Ginny hissed at him. "Be nice!"

"What? It's the truth, isn't it? We haven't had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher last more than a year at this bloody place. It's like the position is cursed or something."

Harry smiled. "I think if anyone will make it beyond a year it will be her, Ron. She strikes me as the tenacious sort."

"It sounds like you know her." Hermione looked at Harry in surprise.

He nodded. "She was the lady that moved in across the street from the Dursleys last year. I got to meet her this summer. She's really quite nice."

Ron snorted. "But does she know what she's doing?"

"I can't imagine Headmaster Dumbledore hiring her if she wasn't"

"Yeah. Didn't he hire the Alistor Moody who turned out to be a fake?"

"He doesn't know everything, Ron."

"Obviously."

Hermione gestured for silence. "Shhh. He's not done yet."

Dumbledore continued with a kindly smile for the students. "I would also like to announce the advancement of one of our students. Ginny Weasley, as a result of a large amount of hard work last year and during the summer, will be moved to the sixth year class of Gryffindors. Congratulations, Miss Weasley."

Hermione and the other Gryffindors applauded the youngest Weasley while the headmaster continued his speech.

"Way to go, Ginny!"

She smiled. Professor McGonagall had been cautious but thrilled when Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned that she wanted to sit for her OWLS. She knew the young girl spent a lot of time with the older students during the previous year and as a result, her knowledge was a lot more advanced than the others in her class. She was very interested in what he had to say, and was the one who spoke with Ginny and her parents about the possibility of her being advanced a year. Molly opposed it, but Ginny seemed to like the idea. Most of her friends were a year ahead of her anyway. Dumbledore appeared to have additional reasons for wanting her to move ahead, but did not share them.

Ginny had been afraid Hermione would be upset, but the older girl simply said that she was happy where she was and was not interested in graduating before her best friends. She even promised to aid Ginny in getting caught up to the other sixth years. Considering her experience with the Time Turner, she was the logical choice.

"That being said, I have another pleasant announcement. Due to unfortunate circumstances last year, we were unable to have our traditional Yule Ball. To make up for it, this year we will have another ball during the Spring, one week before graduation. It will be open to all students, and will take place here in the Great Hall." He paused as an excited chatter erupted at his words. "And now, let the feast begin!"

The platters at each table filled with food of all kinds, and the Hall became noisy as the students helped themselves and chatted with their friends about the summer. Harry was happy that he actually had a fairly good summer for a change and did not feel left out when sharing stories of their adventures. The time passed quickly, and before he knew it, it was time to head back to Gryffindor Tower to get settled in for classes tomorrow.

Hermione and Ron were prefects again, and took their places at the head of the first-years. Ron had been ecstatic to find out that he made prefect for the second year in a row. Harry knew the fiery Gryffindor had expected Harry to make it this year, but he had no way of knowing that his friend had turned down the opportunity when Dumbledore offered it. Harry had no intentions of letting him find out either. He felt Ron deserved it just as much as he did, and had no desire to see his friend doubt his own abilities for no reason. He secretly hoped that Ron's status as a prefect would assuage his feelings of competition with Harry and help return their friendship to where it used to be. He was realistic, however, especially after the past summer, and concentrated on not losing any more of their already fragile friendship.

Harry glanced around at his fellow Gryffindors, wondering what they thought about everything that was happening. He knew that most of them didn't feel the immediacy of the events outside the school, and felt safe while at Hogwarts. Harry knew the school was one of the safest places for him to be, and felt a small bit of relief being here. The capture of Lucius Malfoy in the Ministry of Magic promised to make things rather interesting with his son and the other Slytherins. He knew Lucius was still a threat, and expected to run into a lot of unfriendly situations with Slytherin House this year. Especially with Draco Malfoy. He was extremely glad Professor Spellsinger was at Hogwarts. She seemed genuinely fond of him and he hoped she might be willing to give him some extra tutoring in defending against the dark arts. Perhaps she could teach him Occlumency.

Harry felt himself smile as he heard Ginny's laugh come from behind him. She was talking with the new boy, Julian, and seemed quite taken with him. He knew she was available now, after her boyfriend broke up with her over the summer. He frowned at the thought. The boy had sent Ginny an owl telling her he met someone else over the summer and wanted only to be friends. Truth be told, she had not seemed too heartbroken, but seemed more offended by his methods. Harry was glad Ron was distracted right now, so Ginny could have this opportunity to chat with a nice young man without the overly protective presence of her brother.

The group reached Gryffindor Tower and headed inside to their dorms. Harry and Ron were with the other sixth years again, making Harry wonder where the new boy was going to stay. He was surprised when they got up the stairs to their dorm to find another bed, nightstand and chest had been placed in the room. There hadn't been enough room for it last year, so he assumed the room must have changed to accommodate the new boy. He thought he remembered Hermione saying something about the castle's ability to adapt.

Julian's bed had been placed on the other side of Harry so he was able to chat with the young man while they put their things away.

"Hello, Julian."

"Oh, hello, Harry. I see I have been given the privilege of rooming with you and the other Gryffindors. I am honored beyond measure."

Harry tried to figure out if the other boy was being facetious. "You're a Gryffindor too, Julian. You know that, right?"

Julian tossed him an impudent grin reminiscent of Sirius Black. "Of course, Harry. I have been thoroughly briefed about the traditions at Hogwarts. My apologies. I am feeling particularly flippant this evening."

Harry laughed. "No need for apology, Julian. It's probably more like I'm feeling quite the opposite. I could certainly use the humour."

"Humour is very important. Especially in these dark times." He was silent for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to lighten your burden, Harry?"

Harry looked at Julian, startled at the serious note. "Er… I don't think so. But thank you."

"You are welcome, Harry."

"So, uh, where are you from?"

"Essex. I have been learning magic at a small private school just outside Hadstock."

"Why did you transfer here?"

"My grandmother felt it would be safer. She wanted to do it last year, but the governors would not approve allowing any more students at Hogwarts. Now that they actually believe in the return of You-know-who, they agreed to allow a few in."

"Lucky."

"Indeed. I wish I could have started here at the beginning, but it was not an option at the time."

"Why not?"

"My mother was very ill. I would have been unhappy being away from her for an extended period of time. As her son, it was only right I stay and care for her."

Harry was impressed with the young man. He obviously had a very deep commitment to his family. _Ginny will love that_, he thought.

"Do you like it here at Hogwarts, Harry?"

"Yes. Very much. I think this past summer was the first time I was not spending the whole time wishing I could come back."

Julian looked surprised. "Why?"

"Uh, let's just say my summers are typically not fun and leave it at that."

Julian knew better than to push the issue.

Harry cursed his loose tongue and tried to think of something more neutral to talk about. The young wizard seemed like a nice enough sort, and Harry did not feel so popular as to not be interested in making more friends. Especially in light of Ron's attitude.

"So, Julian, have you ever watched Quidditch?"

"Oh goodness, yes! I myself am a bit fan of the Silver Griffons. I know they are not terribly popular, but I believe they will show their true mettle one day." Harry enthusiastically joined in the conversation about one of his favorite subjects, and even Ron lost his hostility and began interjecting comments after a time.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and it was with a lighter heart that Harry lay down to sleep for his first night back at Hogwarts.


	4. Dueling with Disaster

Cheers to Vaughn for proofing this. And thanks to everyone else for reading and reviewing.

* * *

Draco Malfoy coolly surveyed the class from his seat in back. The year was already starting off well. Harry Potter and the Weasley boy, thankfully the last one, had earned themselves detention the first day by buggering up the Potions assignment. Admittedly, Eric Hadenthor and his friend Nathan had a bit to do with it. They dribbled a small amount of salamander bile into Potter and Weasley's cauldron before the other students came in. Far be it for Draco to tell on them, as he was curious to see what would happen when the bile was combined with the ingredients for a Vision Potion. The resulting explosion was quite satisfying, as was Professor Snape's reaction. 

Now he was preparing for what has consistently been his least favorite class. Except last year. While he had no fondness for Umbridge, her constant harassment of Harry Potter made for a great deal of amusement. He almost looked forward to finding out what wild accusation she was going to make on a given day. He had no idea about the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She seemed rather friendly, so he hoped she would be at least sympathetic to Slytherin House.

The rest of the students filed in shortly before the bell rang. The new professor came in, closing the door behind her and strode to the front of the class. She was young, Draco noticed, probably only a decade older than the seventh years. He wondered where she went to school. He heard the whispers from around him. Most were observing that she was very good-looking – perhaps a female version of Lockhart – and a few raucous speculations caught his attention for a short moment. He made sure his face appeared attentive.

"Welcome to Defense Against Dark Arts. I am Professor Ryselle Spellsinger, and I have been given the privilege of teaching you this year. This is my first year as a teacher, so I hope you will be gentle." From the slight smile Draco inferred that she was being slightly deprecating. He found her accent interesting. He speculated that she was from some part of Eastern Europe.

"Now, as I am unfamiliar with your level of progress, I will be evaluating each of you before we get started in earnest. It is my understanding your classes were irregular last year, thus it is necessary for me to test your knowledge. We will do evaluations this week, and then I will make a plan to get all of you caught up to where you should be, if it is necessary." She scanned the room, eyes settling on Harry Potter. It figured.

"Harry. It is my understanding that you and a number of your friends started a Defense Against the Dark Arts study group last year?"

"Dumbledore's Army, professor. We got together as often as possible to learn ways to defend against the growing power of Vol… him."

Ryselle's eyebrow shot up. "I would like you to give me a summary of what you did, if possible. Later. I am most interested in how you studied."

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, anyone else have experience outside the classroom in the Dark Arts? Defense or use, it does not matter to me. Besides you, Harry."

Most of the students raising their hands were from Potter's D.A. group last year. The others, five of them, were from Slytherin House. Draco rolled his eyes. Pansy, Blaise, Goyle, Hadenthor, and Nott were the only ones stupid enough to raise their hands.

Chatter erupted in the classroom as a result. Draco considered whether or not to join them, just for the amusement value. He decided to wait and see what happened.

"Which of you are familiar with the defensive part of the Dark Arts? Goodness. There certainly are a number of you. Is it safe to assume the rest of you possess experience in the usage of the Dark Arts?"

They nodded.

"Five of you. All Slytherin House. Is there a reason for that?"

Hermione Granger immediately raised her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Slytherin House was founded by Salazar Slytherin who was known to value cunning and power over honor. The Dark Arts attracts those interested in the less honorable path to magical power, thus it holds great interest for those following in Salazar Slytherin's footsteps. Slytherin House has produced some of the greatest wizards in the world, but unfortunately, many of them were evil."

"I see. Well, then, let me say that my approval of your experience with the Dark Arts does not mean I condone its use. My grandfather taught me to oppose darkness in all its forms, especially magic and those who use it for ill." She eyed the five Slytherin students sternly. "I would like to make use of your knowledge, but only in the context of teaching others to defend against it. I make no judgments here; I am simply stating the facts."

Draco decided it was a good thing he kept his hand down. The last thing he needed was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher eyeballing him for being a student of the Dark Arts. Not that he ever had a choice, but he doubted she would be interested in an explanation.

The rest of the class passed quickly, and Draco was surprised to find he enjoyed it and was not bored at any point. The new teacher had potential. He hoped she would have a more successful time of it than the other professors. Several minutes before the end of class, Professor Spellsinger ordered everyone back to their seats. She leaned on the desk in front of the class, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Well," she began, "I hope today proved to be satisfactory to you all." She smiled brilliantly when most students nodded their heads. "Good. Now. Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to take a short time out of our class so you can ask me questions about myself. Getting to know your teacher and all that. I understand there has been a certain lack of success at keeping this position filled with the same person."

"It wasn't always their fault." Draco easily heard Harry's muttered comment.

"So. Any questions for me? Now is your chance. Tomorrow we start really learning."

"Where are you from, Professor?" Leave it to Lavender Brown to start the questioning.

"Romania. I grew up with my grandfather there."

"Are you a Gypsy?"

She laughed. "Believe it or not, I am. My family was part of one of the Gypsy clans in the north of Romania."

"Did you like it there?"

"Yes, Parvati. It is very beautiful there. I liked it very much."

Draco was unsurprised when Hermione Granger raised her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Professor, you mentioned that you grew up with your grandfather and that he taught you to oppose dark magic. Was he your teacher or did you go to school somewhere?"

"Good question. Yes, my grandfather taught me magic, and no I did not attend a school. However, I did learn a great deal at the feet of my grandfather's old, wizard friends, so you could say I had a variety of teachers."

"How long did you study?" A Ravenclaw up front raised her hand.

"Since I was ten. That would be sixteen years."

Even Draco was stunned by that. He was surprised to find himself raising his hand. "Why so long?"

"It was a very thorough education. My grandfather insisted on teaching me how to control my magic after I turned one of my clan-brothers into a pig. He insulted me and I got angry. I am sure all of you had similar experiences before you came to Hogwarts." The students nodded. "As you know, Wizards are born with the potential to do magic. Most children have little to no control over their abilities, but at some point, the powers manifest themselves in an uncontrolled manner. It is usually around ten or eleven years of age that Wizarding children begin to evidence this. Hence, most of you started here at the age of eleven." She smiled fondly at the memory. "If he had not taught me to control my abilities, I would have been quite the danger to both of us. He began teaching me out of self-defense. I guess it took a while for things to sink in."

A few students chuckled at that.

"Professor, are you single?" Draco smirked at the audacity of the question.

"Uh… that is a rather unusual question." The slight color in her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. "Theodore is it?" The Slytherin nodded. "I am not sure what the purpose of asking that is, but the answer is yes." Draco thought the boy looked relieved.

"However," she continued, her color returning to normal, "I am not available." Nott swallowed uncomfortably then nodded. "Next question."

"Why were you chosen for this position?" The professor raised an eyebrow at the abrupt question. Thanos hadn't even bothered to raise his hand.

"I suppose one would assume that Headmaster Dumbledore thought I qualified for it, Thanos. I have had a great deal of training in the subject, as well as experience utilizing that knowledge." She fixed him with a stern glare. "You would need to ask the Headmaster for any further details."

Acheron nodded abruptly, his face slightly red from the implied chastisement. It was only just, thought Draco. Only a moron would ask a question like that. Especially in such a rude manner. He smirked at the thought of how the new professor was going to view the arrogant Slytherin after this. It was going to be a fun year.

"Okay, one final question before the bell. Neville?"

"Uh, why, uh, did you decide to accept the position, Professor?"

She gave the shy young man an encouraging smile. "Another good question. Let us see if I can answer it appropriately." Her eyes turned distant as she considered. "All my life, my grandfather has done everything in his power to make sure I learned to use magic not only well, but for the right reasons. It his he who taught me to practice magic for the Light and how to fight against the darkness that inevitably comes into being as a result of the powers we wield. Teaching others has always been something that I wanted to do, but I honestly never really thought I would get the chance. My original plan was to join the Ministry as an auror. However, Headmaster Dumbledore was kind enough to offer me an alternative, and I am glad I agreed to it." Focusing once again on her students, she smiled. "And that is why I am here. Ladies and gentlemen, I look forward to our next class and would like you to read chapters one through three. There will be a quiz, but perhaps not the kind you may expect." The bell rang, signaling the end of class. "Good day! You are dismissed."

Draco gathered his books slowly, curious to hear what the other students thought. It was obvious the Golden Trio were delighted with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but that wasn't terribly surprising. He figured it was only a matter of time before Potter got on her good side. It would be McGonagall all over again. Thanos and his lackeys seemed to be focused on their teacher's physical attributes, which even Draco had to admit were impressive, and were deep in speculation about her nighttime habits and possible interest in students. Idiots. It was highly unlikely Professor Spellsinger would have anything to do with a student if Draco had to hazard a guess. He was typically very good at reading people, so he believed her when she said she was unavailable. It was obvious there was more to it, but that really wasn't his concern. He already had the information he needed to make this class a lot more enjoyable. At the very least, he could look forward to hearing about his father's reaction when he found out his only son was being taught by a potential auror.

Still smirking, Draco headed off to his favorite class – Potions.

The first couple weeks back at Hogwart's were a bit of a relief for Harry and his two friends, yet uncomfortable at the same time. Hermione and Ron refused to talk to each other, and Harry brooded silently leaving Ginny to fill the silence with rambling dissertations on the topic of the day. Harry was grateful for Julian's presence during those times, as the young man seemed to have a preternatural ability to keep up with the flow of conversation and avoid uncomfortable silences. It was obvious Ginny had become fond of him, and even Ron had to admit he was at least somewhat worthy of his sister. That more than anything shocked Harry.

Hermione threw herself into her studies like a fiend, refusing all invitations to Quidditch, Hogsmeade, or anything else not involving study. Harry was worried about her. It was obvious her experience with Ron had hurt her deeply, and it was all he could do not to take his friend out back and give him a piece of his mind. While it hurt more than he ever imagined to know the woman he recently discovered he loved was in love with someone else, he had to admit that she couldn't have chosen better. In fact, he came to the realization that she would be better off with Ron. The red-headed Gryffindor was not the target of the most powerful evil wizard alive. As much as it pained him, he knew there was no one else he could handle seeing her with. Ron was like a brother to him.

Ginny watched all this from the sidelines, her frustration building daily at the idiocy of her brother and his friends. At the very least she thought Ron would apologize to Hermione and let her know that he was mistaken in his assertion that Harry didn't love her. But the prat refused to do such a thing, stating simply that it was up to Harry and Hermione to work things out. After the first meeting of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts club, it became obvious to Ginny something needed to be done. She knew Harry was a lot better at magic than he had demonstrated, but figured he was far too distracted by his personal problems to be effective. Even Professor Spellsinger appeared worried and extremely surprised at Harry's abysmal performance.

They met in the Room of Requirement a few weeks after the start of the term. Harry and Professor Spellsinger had worked out a strategy to train the students. She appeared impressed with his knowledge and was satisfied to let him run the meetings. There were more people than last year, including the new Gryffindor Julian, as well as several people from other houses. Ginny even thought she saw a Slytherin.

Harry called the meeting to order and announced that they would meet every Tuesday, since that was the one day none of the Quidditch teams had practice. They would come to the Room of Requirement after dinner, and practice would last for an hour and a half. Some groaned at this, but Harry assured them they would understand why once they began learning. Professor Spellsinger was the sponsor of the club, and was there to make sure things went well, to answer questions, and to demonstrate new techniques. After Harry's short speech, he gestured for her to take the floor, and she stepped forward.

"I am glad to see so many of you have taken an interest in learning more about defending against the Dark Arts. I dearly hope you will never have to use what you learn here, but if you find yourself in a bad situation, these techniques should aid you in defending yourself. First of all, everyone needs a partner. Each of you received a slip of paper when you entered the room this evening. It contains the name of your partner and the spells you will be permitted to cast during this first duel. Please find your partners and prepare yourselves now."

There was a certain amount of grumbling. Cho Chang was upset that she was 'stuck' partnering with Neville Longbottom. Several others raised their hand to object at their partner choices, but were ignored by the young professor. Padma from Ravenclaw was not happy to be partnered with Owen from Hufflepuff. Ginny noticed the slight look of amusement on their teacher's face as she located her partner, Luna Lovegood, and chuckled. It seemed the professor had put them with the person most likely to irritate them. She had no problem being partnered with Luna, however, so she was curious as to Ryselle's plan.

Once everyone was with their partners – Harry was with the professor and Ron and Hermione were together, which Ginny thought was a disaster waiting to happen – the raven-haired Gypsy called the meeting to order and gave the signal to start. Things were calm at first. Everyone was sticking to their curses and dueling in a polite and seemingly organized fashion. But then Neville used the Bat-Bogey hex on Cho, and the incensed Ravenclaw responded with the Tarantulegus Curse, which caused the Gryffindor to lose control of his next spell. The situation dominoed and Ginny quickly found herself ducking curses from all directions.

The carnage continued for a few moments, and then suddenly stopped. "_Nunc desisto_!" Professor Spellsinger stood at the center of the room, unhexed and looking extremely annoyed. Gazing sternly at the students, she shook her head. "When Headmaster Dumbledore told me you had practiced defending against the dark arts last year, I had assumed you all had some manner of proficiency. I understand your education was interrupted by the intervention of the High Inquisitor, but that is no excuse for the fiasco tonight. Please explain to me why you all felt the need to randomly fling hexes about the room. Anyone?"

Neville timidly raised his hand. "Uh… Professor? It's my fault. I…uh…tripped and must have hit someone else. I think it was all just a bit of a chain reaction. We just all kind of…reacted."

"Badly, Mr. Longbottom. Yes, I am aware of what happened. However. That does not excuse any of you for your behaviour. As a matter of fact, all of you except Ginny and Luna hexed at least one person that was not your partner. That is unacceptable. In a battle your friends need to know that you are on their side. There must be trust. I saw very little of that here tonight."

Everyone had the good grace to look ashamed. Ginny thought everyone was a bit on edge because of what had happened last year, and Neville's accident just exacerbated the issue. They all reacted without thought, but with fear. She raised her hand to point that out, but Hermione beat her to it.

"Professor? Maybe we should have started a bit more simply. Many of us were in the battle at the Ministry of Magic. I wasn't the only one injured, and I think I speak for us all when I say that we're all a bit on edge because of it. Perhaps something less…combative to start might be in order."

Ryselle gazed thoughtfully at the Gryffindor prefect, and then smiled. "You would be correct, Hermione, and I am happy to see that at least one of my students got the point of this lesson." Professor Spellsinger tossed Ginny a wink as she said it. "Please, have a seat. The first thing one must realize when learning, is that no matter how much you know, it will never be enough. Someone will always know more than you, just like someone will always know more than them. Learning never stops. But it is far too easy to get caught up in your training and experience; losing the thirst for knowledge that drove you before because you feel there's nothing more to learn. Had I started you off simply tonight, many of you would have been insulted. You were at the Ministry of Magic, after all. How could I possibly doubt your capability?"

Ginny looked around at her fellow classmates. She knew she at least would have been a bit annoyed. It appeared she was not alone. Even Hermione seemed a bit chastened.

"I do this not to insult you, nor to set you up for embarrassment. It is for the purpose of seeing where you are in proficiency, and for me to discover how easily distracted you are." She smiled gently. "It is a fragile balance. On one hand, you need to pay attention to what is going on around you. But on the other, you need to make sure you are not reacting to things you should be leaving to others. Trust is the most important part of defending against the dark arts. Those who use the dark arts do not trust. They will always be alone. This is your strength, and their weakness." Ryselle paced around the room, illustrating her points with her hands. "The reason you have been placed with the person I have chosen, is because you need to learn to trust them more than any other. If you can trust this individual, you will be able to trust anyone else in this room. This is not a punishment or an insult, but a way to train you the best way I know how. If you can trust that I know what I am doing, it will be a good start."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor waited a few moments while the students pondered her comments. It appeared Ginny wasn't the only one who understood Ryselle's intentions. She could tell Harry was beating himself up mentally, and she wished there was a way to get him to stop being so hard on himself. He still blamed himself for Sirius' death, and for getting Hermione, Ron, and the others injured. The rift between him and his best friends just made the situation worse and that, Ginny realized, was the heart of the issue. Harry loved Hermione. Hermione loved Harry. But Harry thought Hermione was in love with Ron, who had told Hermione Harry would never love her. _Bloody prat_, she thought. It was a good thing the professor hadn't partnered her with her brother. She wasn't sure what she would do to him if given the chance.

Someone needed to intervene in the situation to resolve it. Ordinarily she would have gone to Hermione with her problem, but since the older Gryffindor was neck deep in it, she knew no help would be found there. It occurred to her that the new professor could help, but Ginny knew very little about her and was reluctant to drag her into things. She would just have to handle this on her own. Tonight after practice, she resolved to talk with Hermione and make her understand.

Ginny turned her attention back to the task at hand, and spent the next hour practicing shielding spells with Luna.

That evening, after the dueling club let out, Ginny tracked down Hermione who was fervently studying in the library. Of course. She was concerned about her friend's obsession with study – more than usual – and was determined things would be different after tonight.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

"Ginny, I'm studying. Can't it wait?"

The red-haired girl paused for a moment to study her friend, and then shook her head. "No. I think this is something we should take care of now. Trust me. It's very important."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Fine," she said, dropping her quill. "What is it?"

"I don't think you want to have this conversation here."

"What's wrong with the library?"

"Too many ears for one thing. Come on, Hermione, let's go back to my room. Mum sent me a box of brownies and I'm willing to share."

"That's friendship."

Ginny grinned. "Indeed it is. Come on!"

The two girls quickly made their way back to Gryffindor tower. The other girls were already asleep, having exhausted themselves at practice this evening. Ginny and Hermione were the only girls still awake, and as a result, the dorm seemed echoingly empty. Ginny grabbed the scarlet and gold-wrapped parcel and joined Hermione on the floor.

"Dig in."

The two girls ate in companionable silence for a few moments before Hermione's natural curiosity asserted itself.

"Okay, Ginny. What's all this about? I mean, I love that you're willing to share your mother's brownies…"

"But you want to know what's so important that I pulled you away from your studies."

Hermione nodded.

"Okay, you remember what happened during the summer?"

The older girl grimaced. "How could I forget?"

"Well, there were some consequences for that I think no one could ever have foreseen."

"Like what? If Ron's still having issues with the fact that he was being a…"

"It's not my brother, Hermione."

"What do you mean it's not your brother?"

"It's Harry."

"What? What do you mean it's Harry?"

"Just what I said, Hermione. This has affected Harry pretty severely."

Hermione looked at Ginny in disbelief, and then rolled her eyes. "Ah. Harry's having problems with the 'golden trio' not getting along. Well he can just deal with it, Ginny. I'm not going to go running back to Ron all apologetic just so we can get back to being the Dream Team. Ron is perfectly capable…"

"It's not that, either."

"…of giving me an apology and until that happens, I'm not budging."

"HERMIONE! Would you bloody listen for a damn moment?"

Ginny thought the look of surprise on the brown-haired Gryffindor's face was almost worth the exasperation. "Alright, let's get a few things straight here. One, yes, I do think Harry's unhappy that the 'Dream Team' 'golden trio' or whatever you want to call yourselves is broken up. It's been the only family he's had for the past five years. He also seems to be under a lot more pressure, so I doubt he's comfortable with having to go it alone…"

"…since when is he alone?"

"Since you and Ron abandoned him for your bullshit little argument."

"It wasn't little!"

"Maybe not, but I bet it's not as big as Voldemort."

"Ginny…"

"Despite what everyone else thinks, Hermione, a large part of the reason Harry made it this far is due to his friends. You and Ron. You've been there for him as much as possible and it's helped him a great deal. Now he's lost the two of you, and Sirius, not to mention he's being thought of as the harbinger of doom for the Wizarding world, oh and incidentally needing to be the one to fight Voldemort and save us all from that doom…"

"…I get the point…"

"…and all the other crap that goes along with being Harry Potter."

"Fine! I'll go make up with Ron. I'm sure he'll see reason if I tell him it's for Harry."

"That's not going to help this time, Hermione. It's a bit worse than that."

A chill ran up Hermione's spine. "What do you mean, worse than that?"

"Hermione, Harry thinks you're in love with Ron."

The room was silent for a moment, and then it seemed to register what Ginny just said.

"WHAT?"

"Harry heard what you said about Ron not thinking you were as good as other girls. He was also there right before you left. Hermione, you never said that it was Harry you were in love with or that Harry never loved you. You said 'he'. Harry took that to mean you were talking about Ron and now he's convinced you are madly in love with Ron and that Ron's being a royal prat."

Ginny never thought she would ever see Hermione struck speechless, but she was now. Her eyes grew wide as she began to understand. "So Harry thinks I ran away from the Burrow because I told Ron I was in love with him and he told me to bugger off?"

"Right."

"But why would that make a difference to Harry? I mean, I realize a relationship between me and Ron would be odd, but why would he have such a problem with it?"

"It probably has something to do with the fact that he's in love with you."

Hermione looked at Ginny in disbelief. "Ginny, don't start that again."

"Bloody hell, Hermione! I've been telling you for months now that he's got it as bad for you as you have for him. He's head over heels in love with you, and has been for some time. He just needed a bit of a push to make him realize it."

"Oh, like the possibility that I was in love with someone else?"

"No, Hermione, like you getting injured in the Ministry of Magic. Harry still hasn't forgiven himself for that. Neville told me what happened. He said Harry looked like his world ended when you got hurt. Only after he was told you were okay did he divert his attention from you."

"He could have been killed!" Hermione's stomach clenched at the thought of what could have happened while Harry was distracted. Tonight was a prime indication of that. Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe Ginny was right. Harry had been acting rather subdued around her lately. The looks he gave her when he thought she wasn't looking seemed almost pained, yet she could tell he was rigidly controlling himself. She had just assumed he was thinking about Sirius.

"Hermione, this needs to get resolved soon. Professor Spellsinger told us that the worse thing we can do is be distracted while we're fighting. Look at what happened tonight. Remember she said we needed to make sure we were at peace in our minds before we could truly harness the totality of our powers. More than anyone, Harry needs to be at his maximum capability, and…"

"I know, Ginny. I need to talk to him. I'm not sure how much he'll believe me, though. I…wasn't planning on saying anything to him about how I feel, but it seems my silence has affected our relationship more than if I had talked to him and confessed my feelings."

Ginny knew Hermione was afraid. She took the older girl's hand. "Hermione. He loves you. I know he does. He told me. He's not going to reject you or stop being your friend because you love him. I can't imagine him being anything but ecstatic."

Hermione knew Ginny would never lie to her about such a thing. Now she was angry with herself for not telling Harry at the beginning of the summer. The fight with Ron would never have happened if she had been together with Harry. Not that she thought everything would have been easy. Ron would have still been hacked off that he lost out again to his best friend. She sighed. She just never saw Ron that way. Not really. Sure, she had been attracted to him in that uncomfortable sort of way when they were 12. But Harry had always been there for her. It was him that she thought of right before seeing the basilisk and it was him she wanted to see as soon as she was un-petrified. He was always in her thoughts, and she always felt safe near him. Safe and loved.

And that was her answer. She should have thought of it sooner. She always felt something around Harry. Like an aura of…love for lack of a better term. When he looked at her it was like being in heaven, and the greatest feeling in the world was when he held her in his arms at the end of their second year. She honestly hadn't wanted him to let go. Even at that young of an age. She had been uncomfortable with Ron, but with Harry it was like she was where she belonged. Nodding to herself, Hermione got up and decided to go find Harry now before she lost her courage. Turning to her friend, she gave Ginny a quick hug.

"Wish me luck."

Hermione found Harry in the Astronomy Tower, leaning on the ledge overlooking the school grounds. His eyes were turned upward, as if he was trying to see heaven. _Maybe he is_, thought Hermione. Sirius' death still affected him deeply, and if Ginny was right, Harry felt more alone now than ever. She felt responsible for at least part of his sadness. Still lurking in the shadows, she decided to watch him for a few moments, and mull over what she was going to say to him.

Oblivious to Hermione's presence, Harry gazed at the stars deep in thought. The night sky was clear as glass, making it seem like he could see forever. The moon was a small sliver providing only enough light to fill the grounds in a soft luminescence. Tonight was the most beautiful he had experienced for a while and he found himself wishing he could share it with someone. Like Hermione. Loneliness was an ache in his heart and unfortunately could not be cured by any spell. He understood that she loved another, and he accepted that. But he wished that just one of the people he loved could be here for him. He idly wondered if Sirius and his parents were up in the heavens somewhere watching over him.

He casually strolled over to the north side of the Tower and sat down. Leaning up against the stone wall, he contemplated the past and future. Part of him dreaded the thought of getting older. He knew at some point he would have to fight Voldemort and only one of them would walk away. He wondered if he would actually be able to kill him. _ He killed my parents_, he thought, _and countless others in his quest for domination over the Wizarding world_. It was his duty, his destiny to defeat the evil wizard or die trying. _Only one shall survive_, he remembered. The prophecy was very specific about that. Considering his performance at tonight's dueling club, he'd be lucky to last five seconds against Voldemort.

He knew the professor was disappointed in him. After everyone else left, she asked him to stay behind for a few moments for a chat. Part of him wanted to tell her to bugger off, but she had been such a good friend to him over the summer and was doing so much to help him at school that he felt guilty for his hostility.

"_Please, have a seat, Harry."_

_He sat down in the indicated chair and patiently waited for her to tell him what she wanted. He concentrated on not showing his irritation._

"_Harry. I'm sure you noticed tonight did not go as well as I had hoped."_

"_Yes, Professor."_

"_And you know why the others had such difficulties at first, correct?"_

"_Yes, Professor."_

"_What I would like to know, Harry, is what happened with you? I hit you three times with curses you could have easily blocked, yet you were slow to notice and slow to respond. Why? Are you not feeling well? If not you should have said something and I would have recommended we practice some other night…"_

"_It's not that, Professor. I…" He savagely bit down on his emotions, determined not to lose his temper with her like he had with Headmaster Dumbledore. "I'm having some…personal issues. I guess I was just a bit distracted."_

"_I see." She let the silence stretch for a moment, and then she leaned forward. "Harry. I understand that things are not easy for you right now. I have no doubt you are going though many things that I am unaware of, and that you do not wish to share with me. However, it is my responsibility to prepare you for your future encounters with the side of darkness, and I cannot accomplish that if you are distracted for whatever reason."_

_Harry's already frayed temper snapped. "Well I'm sorry, Professor! Maybe we can't all be so bloody perfect all the time! It's easy for you. You've had years of training. You were brought up by your bloody grandfather and taught magic from the time you were old enough to understand it. But I wasn't! I grew up in a cupboard surrounded by relatives that hated me and kept me ignorant of my wizard heritage! How the bloody hell can they possibly expect me to defeat Voldemort? The papers are right. I defeated him through a great deal of luck! Not to mention the help of my two best friends who are currently ignoring me in favor of their romantic difficulties. I was always afraid of this, you know. When Ron started being interested in Hermione, I thought to myself 'this is not going to be good.' And you know what? I was right! They hate each other! They might as well hate me! Julian's been the only real friend besides Ginny I've had since the beginning of the year and I CAN'T BLOODY STAND IT ANY MORE!" The sound of shattering glass brought Harry back to himself. He did what he had promised himself he would not do again – take his anger out on someone else. It was all so overwhelming, so much that he couldn't take the pain anymore. Emotions raging, he broke down and wept like a child._

_Even in his despair, he felt Ryselle wrap her arms around him and murmur soft, comforting words. He cried, letting go of months of grief and pain, anger and rage. Part of him was ashamed for breaking down in front of her, but oddly enough, after spending a month seeking refuge at her house, she was the closest thing to a mother he had now. Molly was so worried about her own children that Harry didn't feel he should confide in her. He had no desire to add to her burden. Tonks, McGonagall, and the other teachers – they were concerned with other issues. It was comforting to have someone there for him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe and oddly enough, loved._

_Ryselle let him cry for several minutes, until she could hear his sobs begin to subside. Then she gently lifted his face up and wiped the tears away. He could see an equal amount of grief in her eyes. With a start, he realized her sorrow was for him._

"_Harry. I apologize. I did not know you were having so many problems. I…I only wanted to help prepare you for the upcoming conflict. Perhaps I chose the wrong issue to be concerned about. It is far too easy to forget that you are a sixteen-year-old boy with all the associated problems in addition to the joys of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Is there anything I can do to help?"_

_Harry felt like a heel for taking his frustration out on his professor. "No, professor, I just need to figure some things out. I know you're right. Voldemort isn't really going to care about my problems. And I know he's not going to schedule a time where I'm feeling all nice and cheerful for our duel. I guess…I just don't know what to do." He looked in her eyes. "Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurts to think of them with someone else?"_

_Incredible anguish flashed in her eyes, and then was gone. "Yes," she replied softly. "I loved someone so much that I…it hurt not to be with him. I do not know how I would have reacted had he been with another."_

"_I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't know."_

"_That is alright, Harry. I understand." _

"_Do you mind if I ask what happened?"_

_She was silent for a moment. Taking stern control of her emotions, she regarded him sadly. "He died."_

_Harry felt like a heel. "I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to pry. I just..."_

"_You are having issues with your best friends and from what I can see, romantic issues of your own. I will help in any way I can, Harry. You know that."_

_He nodded._

_She looked at him appraisingly for a few moments, and then gave him a slight smile. "Harry. I think many of your problems might go away if you resolve things between you and your friends. My suggestion would be to talk with them." She held up a hand to forestall his objection. "I know what you are going to say. It will destroy your friendship. Well, Harry, from what you describe, there is not much of a friendship right now anyway. Talk with them. Tell them how you feel and how it is affecting you. They do care about you, Harry. They are just caught up on their own problems. Perhaps your test of trust is this. You must talk with them and there must be truth between you. Things will be a lot better for it. When you are ready, return here and I will begin your lessons in Occlumency."_

He nodded, seeing her point. Headmaster Dumbledore told him at the beginning of the year he would be receiving training. He knew he needed it, but he also knew from last year's disastrous experiences with Snape that he was in no condition to master the difficult art. Ron and Hermione were no doubt caught up in the drama resulting from their estrangement that they were not noticing anything else. He needed to figure out a way to talk with them. Taking his leave of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he headed up to the Astronomy Tower for some serious thought. Now that he was up here, overlooking the school grounds, everything seemed so distant to him. Voldemort, Hermione, Ron, even that git Malfoy seemed far away. He needed this. Some time alone to think deep thoughts without having to explain himself to anyone.

The scuff of a foot on stone broke into his contemplation. Harry looked up, startled. He was even more surprised to see Hermione standing there. She smiled timidly. "Hello, Harry."

He sat up. "Uh, hi, Hermione."

She came over and sat next to him. "I thought I might find you here. What are you thinking about?"

He flushed, thinking that she really didn't want to know the subject of his thoughts. "Uh, I was just thinking about tonight's practice. It was really terrible."

She chuckled. "Just a bit. But we'll get better. Professor Spellsinger is right. We all needed to be shown that we're not quite as good as we want to think we are. Yet. We'll get there. Especially you."

Their eyes met at her last statement, wonder filling him at the absolute trust he saw in them. He knew his friends always had faith in him – Hermione more than anyone – but it was another thing to see it evidenced in the eyes of the woman he loved.

"Uh, I uh… thanks, Hermione. That means a lot coming from you."

"Anytime, Harry."

The two Gryffindors sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the other's company. Hermione was glad she came, but was having difficulty figuring out what to say. Should she just blurt out that she loved him and hope for the best? Somehow that didn't seem to be the best plan. Glancing over at him, she could see the worry in his face and the sadness in his eyes. She wished there was something she could do to make him feel better. Acting on instinct, she took his hand, smiling at his surprise.

"You look unhappy, Harry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Harry narrowly avoided spilling out all the thoughts clashing in his mind. He wanted to tell her, but he didn't want to destroy their friendship with his selfish wants. He loved her, but he was willing to step aside for her happiness. "No. Not really. It's complicated. I just… well, I was just thinking about a lot of things. I guess I just needed to be by myself for a while."

She looked down in embarrassment "Oh, well should I leave you alone then? I don't want to intrude."

"NO!" he exclaimed. "I mean, no, that's okay. I don't mind."

She smiled. "Okay. I'll stay."

"Good."

"May I ask what you were thinking about? You looked so serious."

Harry chuckled. "Well, a little about him, but mostly about…things that have been going on lately." He still wasn't sure how to bring up what happened over the summer between her and Ron. "So, uh, what brings you up here?"

"Ginny, actually. Well, in a way. She just pointed out some things to me this evening and I wanted to talk with you about them before things can get worse."

He looked at her curiously. "Like what?"

"Uh, well, you know, we've been worried about you. You know. Me, Ginny, and Ron. You haven't really been yourself lately."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. I'm sure Ron's real worried. Quidditch try-outs are tomorrow. Heaven forbid our star player not get enough rest to impress Warren."

"Harry!"

"Tell me it isn't true. I bet Ron's downstairs right now complaining that if I don't get my beauty sleep I'll fall off my broom and Gryffindor will lose the Cup to Slytherin."

There wasn't a lot she could say to dispute it. Ron had a tendency to be very focused on Quidditch.

"Next year is our last year and he really wants to make sure we go out with Gryffindor colors in the hall."

"I know. He talked about it all summer."

"True. But he's also your friend."

"Oh, yeah, right. I should have remembered."

"Harry! How could you say that?"

Harry was silent.

"You don't think that Ron has stopped being your friend because of…"

"You and him?"

"Uh, yeah."

"What do you think, Hermione? Or rather, what would you think if you were in my position?"

"Harry…"

It was now or never. "My two best friends have a fight over the summer and all of a sudden one of them leaves without a bloody goodbye and the other spends the rest of the time obsessing over becoming the greatest Keeper in history or spending all his time at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. What the hell am I supposed to think? We're supposed to be best friends, Hermione, but all of a sudden I'm out of the loop. Did I become extraneous because you fell in love with Ron or is there another reason?"

Hermione stared at him in shock. Ginny was right. He thought she was in love with Ron! No wonder he was so upset. He had to think that they rejected him in favor of a romantic relationship. It was time to put a stop to this. She squeezed his hand.

"Harry. I… I don't think you're seeing the truth of what's actually going on. It's… a bit more complicated than you think."

"So why don't you enlighten me?"

She tossed him a stern look. "That's what I'm trying to do. If you'd stop interrupting."

"Sorry."

Hermione got up and walked over to the tower's ledge. She looked out over the school grounds, thinking that tonight was perfect for what she was about to say. She only hoped Ginny was right about his feelings.

"This summer was probably the most difficult one I've ever experienced. The trip to France was wonderful, but it wasn't everything I hoped it would be. I spent the entire trip wishing for something." She paused, trying to figure out what to say. "I've thought about a lot of things over the past year, and my long distance relationship with Viktor kind of forced me to take a look at my life and realize something very profound. That's why we broke up, you know. He knew long before I did."

Harry was confused. What was she talking about? Her being in love with Ron?

She turned back to him, her eyes a mystery. "Harry, I…I really don't know how to say this. I've thought about it time and again for the past several months, but I really never thought I'd be having this conversation with you. You… we…"

Harry stood and came over to join Hermione. He took her hand, hoping to comfort her even as his heart was breaking. He never really thought about how difficult it had to be for her to tell him she had chosen one of her best friends over the other. He should have thought about that.

"Hermione. You don't need to say anything. I understand. I'm happy for you, really I am. I'll still be your friend no matter what. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy, and if Ron makes you happy, I'd be a really poor friend if I had a problem with it…"

"Harry, you bloody git! It's not Ron. It's you!"

Shock rooted Harry to the floor. "Wh…what?"

Hermione looked into his eyes. "It's you I'm in love with Harry. Not Ron. I've loved you for years. I just didn't realize it until this summer. When Ron figured it out, he got angry. Really angry. That's why I left, Harry. Not because Ron rejected me, but because he told me you would never love me. I couldn't stand being there because it hurt so much to think…"

"I love you, Hermione."

"I…You do?" Her eyes filled with wonder and joy. Ginny was right! She flung herself into his arms. "Oh Harry! I've waited so long to hear those words from you. I honestly never thought I'd hear them, I mean I'm just…well… look at me. I'm a bushy-haired Muggleborn with an obsession with studying and a tendency to lecture. Cho Chang is beautiful, athletic, and extremely smart…"

"But not you. Hermione. Cho never had a chance with me because I was already in love with you. I just didn't realize it. You have no idea how amazing you are. How beautiful. I love your hair, your obsession with studying, and yes, your tendency to lecture. I could listen to you forever." He kissed her hand. "I could look at you forever." He kissed her other hand. "And I most certainly could love you forever."

Looking into her eyes, Harry could see the same roil of emotions he was feeling just being in her presence. There was love there, he saw, and so much more. They moved closer, slowly coming together to meet in a tentative kiss. The minor contact sent waves of emotion crashing through them both, and a moment later they were kissing again, this time with all the passion they were both feeling. Harry felt like he could fly, it was so wonderful kissing her. Her soft, warm lips moved beneath his, her mouth opening invitingly. His tongue darted in as he deepened the kiss, and the two Gryffindors held each other close as they declared their love without words. A shooting star flashed overhead, causing Harry to break the kiss. He smiled. It was the first smile she had seen from him in a while.

"I guess I don't need to make my wish anymore."

Her eyes danced in the dim light as she understood his meaning. How could she have been so foolish as to doubt his feelings for her? "Neither do I."

They kissed again, and then Harry led Hermione back to the north wall of the tower to sit down. He never let her hand go, smiling the entire time. Hermione realized that much of Harry's pain over the summer had to do with the misunderstanding between them. But she knew there was something else. She was reluctant to shatter the mood, but there needed to be truth between them. He was hiding something and she was determined to find out what it was.

She turned toward him and was surprised to find he was already looking at her. She blushed.

"Harry, I…"

"Hermione, I…"

They both laughed. "Ladies first."

She smiled. "I just wanted to ask you what is bothering you."

He looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Harry, it's obvious that something happened last year other than Sirius' death. You've had something very heavy on your mind and I'd like to know what it is." She took his other hand. "Harry, you can't keep it all in. Share with me. I'm your friend." Copying his gesture, she kissed it. "I love you."

His face was unreadable. "I…" he hesitated, "I'm not sure it's something you want to know."

"I want to know anything that bothers you, Harry. Please tell me."

Harry sighed. He really wanted to share things with her, but he also wasn't sure he was ready to tell her about the prophecy. He decided to tell her some of it. He could tell she was disappointed at his hesitation, and resolved to tell her everything at a later date.

"Hermione, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not quite ready to talk about everything that happened at the Ministry. I still have nightmares about it, and probably will for a long time. It was there that I finally realized I love you, you know. When I saw you lying there, hurt because of me…" Tears filled his eyes. "I…I didn't know what to do. It was like I lost my heart, but then Neville said you were still breathing. Hermione, you have no idea how relieved I felt. There was no way I was going to let those bastards do anything to you, so Neville and I took you and the prophecy and ran." His face became cold and angry. "Then they killed Sirius. I…"

Emotions long held in check broke free within Harry. The flash of light. His godfather falling behind the Veil. Images flashed in his mind and for the second time that evening he felt his carefully won control failing.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm here." She held him close, trying to comfort him as much as possible.

Surrounded by her love, Harry felt it was a balm to his soul. It hurt that Sirius was dead, but he knew his godfather would never want him to spend his life grieving and moping. Especially if there was a beautiful woman holding him in her arms. He could hear Sirius telling him to get a grip. He hugged her tight, and then captured her lips again in a passionate kiss.

For the next several hours, Harry and Hermione stayed in the Tower, sharing the view and chatting softly about things they had never confided in anyone else. Harry felt relaxed for the first time in months, and happier than he ever had been. It was a huge relief to finally tell Hermione how he felt, and he was ecstatic she felt the same. He knew now why Ron and Hermione fought over the summer. He couldn't believe Ron said what he did to her. He was angry, but he knew confronting Ron about it wouldn't solve anything. It was going to be hard enough to tell his fiery-tempered friend that he and Hermione were together. He could only hope Ron would be happy for them.

"Ron's going to be really hacked off at us." He was surprised to hear Hermione echoing his thoughts.

He nodded. Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that things were rarely easy. He turned to her, and the breath caught in his throat as he saw how close she was to him. _She's so beautiful,_ he thought. He smiled as he saw she was looking at him as well.

"Harry?" she whispered, trembling.

"Hermione…" he breathed in wonder.

Time stopped as they gazed into each other's eyes. Both of them were still amazed at what they found there. Hermione had always thought Harry would wind up with someone like Cho Chang. It was one of the reasons she took Viktor up on his long distance proposal. She never thought Harry would look twice at her. But looking at him now, she could see the emotion there, and the same wonder she felt. Her heart leaped in her chest. _ He really does love me,_ she thought.

Harry had always thought Hermione saw him as no more than a friend. He thought she was devoted to Viktor Krum and did his level best to be a good friend to her by supporting her long distance relationship. Even though it ripped his heart out. But now, looking into her eyes, he could see something more there. Something far more profound than friendship. It warmed him. He found himself moving toward her, again, unable to resist the temptation of her lips. Cupping her face in his hand he kissed her softly. She responded enthusiastically and they stayed that way, joined by their lips for several minutes.

A soft clearing of a throat interrupted them.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I can fully appreciate the romanticism of the moment, but this tower is going to be swarming with students in just a few minutes. I suggest you head back to your house."

They broke apart, surprised to see Professor Spellsinger standing there, smiling indulgently. "Go. Do not worry; you are not in trouble. But you should go before that changes."

The two Gryffindors blushed, and quickly headed back to their tower. Harry refused to let Hermione's hand go, so they ran through the halls, together, their hands joined.

They did not stop running until they got back into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione pulled her hand away, and turned to face Harry. He could see hesitation in her features now that they were no longer wrapped in their own world.

He placed a finger on her lips before she could say anything. "I don't regret anything that happened, Hermione. I've been dreaming of it for close to a year now. I want you to remember that I love you. I have for a long time. It just took a while for it to penetrate this thick skull of mine. You are my light, 'Mione."

She smiled shyly, taking his hand. "I love you too, Harry. More than words can describe. This has been the happiest night of my life." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then ran up to her room. She felt like she was flying.

They both got only a few short hours of sleep, but both were so energized by the previous night's revelations, it did not seem to affect them.


	5. Decisions and Challenges

Okay, I apologize for the long wait, but I've been working on rewriting a bunch of stuff. If you haven't checked out the last four chapters lately, they've been altered a bit to be more in line with my current story. Chapters One and Three underwent the most changes. I apologize for not doing it earlier.

Thanks for waiting and reading, guys. I'll try to be better about updating.

* * *

Monday morning arrived far too quickly and it was with heavy hearts that Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny dragged themselves to Potions. Harry grumbled about the unfairness of having Snape's class first thing in the morning on the first day of the week, but the others were too preoccupied to notice. It wasn't anything they hadn't heard before.

Despite the fact that Harry was relieved he would still have a chance at becoming an auror, he hated taking Snape's class, especially after the fiasco that was the first class of the year. It should not surprise him that Snape did nothing to find out why his cauldron exploded, but he still felt a surge of anger toward the greasy-haired Slytherin.

Snape glared at them when they entered (it was a habit no doubt) and waited impatiently for everyone to be seated. The bell rang and the students turned themselves to the assigned task. The first month of school had been every educational for the new sixth years. All teachers in NEWT level classes expected a great deal, including the ability to begin the assignment without being told. Ron was disappointed to learn that Harry was becoming just as studious as Hermione, which meant he had no one to whisper to during class.

Neville Longbottom was now paired with Ernie McMillan, who seemed quite successful at keeping the confused Gryffindor from making too many mistakes. Snape assigned Ginny and Hermione to work together, to Harry and Ron's dismay, and the two Gryffindor friends were ordered to remain partners. Harry felt slightly bad for being less than happy about that fact. He supposed all the professors were used to it. Hermione had always been on her own or paired with someone like Neville. It made sense to finally put her with a partner who was capable of keeping up. Everyone was very surprised to see how easily Ginny adapted to her new classes, and how quickly she caught up on everything. Time Turner use helped a great deal. Hermione and Ginny spent two hours a day working on her fifth-year classes. According to his best friend, they were probably going to have them complete by the end of the week.

He was very proud of both of them.

Quidditch trials went well last week, and Ginny was able to join as a Chaser like she wanted to. Truth be told, she was quite a bit better than her brother, but he performed well enough to convince Warren to give him the Keeper position. Practice would help hone his skills, as would building up his confidence. Harry remembered what happened last year. Ron was so proud of his accomplishment, and no one could blame him.

"Mr. Potter. Perhaps you might wish to add that ingredient instead of staring at it. I doubt it will attack any time soon." Snickers greeted the sarcastic comment and Harry blushed as he tossed the handful of sweetgrass into the cauldron.

BOOM!

More laughter.

"That will be ten points from Gryffindor, for each of you. Mr.Weasley, since you should have been paying attention, and you will both receive a zero for the day. I suggest you clean up your mess."

Ron and Harry glared at the Slytherin professor, but did as they were told. The rest of class was surprisingly uneventful. It was Transfiguration that proved to be the lively one.

NEWT level Transfiguration was an experience unlike anything Ron or Harry could have expected. Ginny and Hermione were prepared, thanks to a thorough perusal of the materials before the start of the term, but their friends were not. Transfiguration was not Harry's best subject, and he was finding himself more and more grateful that he had two good friends who truly understood the topic. Like with Charms, Hermione was a natural in the subject, with Ginny not too far behind.

Minerva McGonagall strode into the room, her stern eye sweeping the class for any sign of troublemaking. Similar to Professor Snape, she taught her NEWT class at a very advanced level, so she was extremely intolerant of horseplay. Today's lesson was the first time they would be attempting to change themselves. According to the book, Shapechanging was very difficult and few wizards were actually capable of the transformation. Metamorphmagi were unique in that they possessed the skill naturally, and Animagi trained themselves to assume a certain form by utilizing the Animagus Charm.

Harry always wanted to be an Animagus like his father. At the start of the year, he'd mentioned his interest to the Headmaster, but had yet to see any evidence of something being done. If no one said anything soon, he would probably talk to Remus and find out how they did it. He idly wondered if Ron and Hermione would want to try too.

"Today's lesson will be far more complicated than anything you have done up to this point. If you have read the assigned material," her disapproving eye fell on Harry and Ron, who often did not, "you will know that this will be a very difficult learning experience. Some of you will be unable to complete it." She flicked her wand and the chalkboard filled with her elegant handwriting.

"The motions are basic and the spellwords simple. The difficulty is in the casting itself. Like the Patronus, the Shapechange spell requires concentration and strength of will. You will first practice the motions and then I will clear you individually to try the spell. Your grade will be dependant on your effort. You may begin."

Harry had his Transfiguration book out while McGonagall was speaking, and quickly read over the material to make sure he understood. Being studious was not as difficult as he'd expected. It actually made things a lot easier in many classes. Swishing and flicking his wand in the appropriate gesture, the green-eyed Gryffindor practiced the motions in preparation for trying the spell. The words were simple – Novo Facies. It was focusing on what changes to make that was the challenging part. The Novo Facies spell allowed a wizard to temporarily change his or her basic appearance in a manner similar to a metamorphomagus. Maybe he'd change his hair to pink or something in honor of Tonks.

"Bloody hell, Harry. I'm never going to get this," Ron whispered. "D'you think you could give a bloke a hand?"

That was a change. Ron asking Harry for help with schoolwork. He shrugged and demonstrated the motion. "You need to curve the top of the motion more and give a quick flick at the end." He watched while Ron struggled to master the assignment. A quick glance at Hermione and his sister confirmed that they were well on their way to mastering the spell. Harry gave his girlfriend a quick wink when she looked his way.

Ron noticed and scowled.

"Mr. Weasley. I see you appear to have some free time on your hands. Are you ready to demonstrate your mastery of the spell motion?"

"Er… of course, Professor," Ron stammered, still glaring at his friends.

"Then pray do impress us."

Sometimes the woman was far too much like Snape. Knowing he either had to admit he could not do it, or try and possibly fail, Ron chose the latter in hopes of discovering some latent mastery that would impress the others. Like Harry's skill with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nodding to the professor, he glanced at Hermione and them swished and flicked. "_Novo Facies_!"

In Ron's defense, it was a good attempt. Harry thought he performed better than normal. Unfortunately, he still failed to successfully cast the spell. Concentration was probably the issue. Upon completion of the spell, Ron Weasley's wand belched purple sparks that swirled and flowed around his body. Moments later, they could see the changes.

Unruly black hair replaced his short red mop while vivid green eyes stared back at Harry in horror. The class began to laugh at Ron's unfortunate transformation.

"Well, well, well. It appears Weasley harbours a not-so-secret wish to be the Boy Who Lived."

Ron's face flushed in anger as he looked daggers at Malfoy.

The bloody prat just grinned cheekily at him and pointed to where the scar should have been. "Something missing, Weasley?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy! I'm going to…"

"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Malfoy. That's enough! Both of you will be serving detention with me this evening and five points from each your Houses. Mr. Weasley, you have obviously not mastered the charm enough to cast it successfully. You will have an Acceptable grade for the day, thanks to your effort, and you will turn in a three-foot essay on what you did wrong while casting the spell. It will be due Friday." Her eyes swept the class. "I suggest the rest of you practice as well."

By the end of class, Draco, Hermione, and two Ravenclaws were the only ones able to successfully cast the spell. Harry, Ginny, and several others were not too far behind, but the details still eluded them. The rest of the class either failed completely or changed into something completely different.

It was a long day.

That evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Julian were studying in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was grumbling about McGonagall's essay, forgetting the fact that one was assigned to all of them, and Ginny was starting to look like she was about to hex her brother. Harry thought about saying something, but Julian took it out of his hands.

The handsome Gryffindor stood up and stretched. "My goodness. I'm not sure about you, but I think I could use a short break." He held out a hand to Ginny. "Perhaps you would like to join me for a walk around the lake?"

Ginny's smile lit up the room and she eagerly stood up. Ron glared as Julian kissed his sister's hand and led her out of the room. He made to follow, but Hermione called him back.

"She's old enough to make her own choices, Ron. Leave them be."

"She's not old enough to be dating boys, Hermione. Much less going out on a moonlit stroll with one." He got up.

"Ron," Harry said warningly.

"She's my sister and I'll protect her if I want to!" He turned toward the portrait.

"You're not going out there to interfere." Harry stared at Ron, willing him to be reasonable for a change. "Sit down."

They were all surprised when Ron turned back and sat in his chair. He was gazing fearfully at Harry.

"Thank you," said Harry. It was nice to see even Ron could be reasoned with. He turned back to his homework.

"Harry…" Why was Hermione looking at him like that?

"What is it, 'Mione?"

"Hey, don't call her that!"

"Oh I don't mind, Ron. Harry, what was that?"

"What was what?" he responded absently. Was transparent spelled with an 'a' or an 'e'?

"Your eyes, Harry. They were glowing."

He looked up at his girlfriend, startled. "What?"

"When you told Ron to sit down. Your eyes were glowing. Was it a spell?"

"Uh…"

"Right creepy if you ask me, mate. It felt like someone was controlling me like a puppet. What the hell was that?"

Panic surged through Harry as he remembered his experience with the Imperious Curse. Weird things had been happening to him all summer. Did he just curse his best friend? He stood up. "I've got to go."

Hermione and Ron watched in disbelief as their friend dashed out the portrait hole.

"Bloody hell. That was barmy."

Hermione just frowned worriedly and wondered where Harry was headed.

Harry bolted through the portrait and ran through the corridors of Hogwarts, propelled by the driving need to talk to his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The idea that he may have unknowingly cast an Unforgivable on his best friend spurred him to race recklessly through the halls in search of her.

He never saw Professor Snape until it was too late.

"POTTER!" Snape's face purpled in fury as he picked himself up off the ground. "Detention! One week in my office at eight o'clock."

Harry waved vaguely, happy to see he was right outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. "Sure, Professor. Whatever."

Had Harry been watching the Potions master, he would have seen an expression few have ever witnessed and lived to tell the tale. He looked murderous at that moment, and instinctively reached for his wand.

"Harry?" Professor Spellsinger's voice surprised them both.

"Professor! Professor I have to talk to you!" Harry rushed over to the startled Gypsy as she exited her office.

"O…kay, Harry. What is it that you need?"

Harry eyed the glowering, dark man behind him. "Er…"

"Is something the matter, Severus?"

He came out of his rage at the sound of her voice. Bloody hell. How could she do that? "What?" he snapped. "I did not give you permission to use my first name."

She shrugged. "No matter. Is there something you need with me or Harry?"

Snape frowned at the familiar way she was addressing a student. "Merely to remind him to be in my office promptly at eight tomorrow evening."

"I am sure he will remember. Goodnight." She quickly shooed the young Gryffindor into her office, sensing that she needed to get him out of Professor Snape's sight. What was it with that man?

The man in question stood gaping at the door for a few moments, trying to fathom what just happened. Every time. Every bloody time he dealt with that… that… woman he walked away feeling annoyed and confused. She got to him on a way no one ever had. Avoiding her was difficult, since Albus Dumbledore was still playing matchmaker and had seated her right next to him in the Great Hall. Fortunately for him, Flitwick was very good at occupying her attention, but sometimes he felt the odd desire to speak with her. Especially after he found her reading the latest Ars Alchemica in the lounge one night.

Bugger it all.

Severus spun on his heel and stalked away from the now-empty corridor. He needed to clear his head and the best way to accomplish that would be to work on some bizarrely difficult potion. He had just the thing.

Meanwhile, Harry had told Ryselle everything that happened in the common room and was gazing anxiously at his professor. Was he about to be sent to Azkaban? Did he just take over Ron's mind? Was he no better than Voldemort?

"No, in a way, and no."

"What?"

"No, you are not about to be sent to Azkaban, no, you are not another Voldemort, and what you did to Ron was only slightly mind-controlling." She touched his hand. "Sit down, Harry. I will explain." He dropped into one of the chairs. "You have managed to tap in to a rather unique ability many wizards have never fathomed, much less manifested. According to the books, Merlin was capable of commanding others with his voice – somewhat like Imperious, but without the ill effects."

Harry looked at her confused.

"I am obviously not explaining this right. Okay. The Imperious Curse forces one's will on another, removing all capability for struggle or thought while under the effects of the spell. A person might act completely contrary to their normal behaviour as a result of the curse."

"But what I did was different?"

"You commanded Ron very much like a professor might. Your magic gave you the authority you would not ordinarily have. Ron responded as he would if someone like…"

"Professor Snape?"

"Yes. How he might react to Professor Snape giving him a command. It is called the Voice of Power, and it can be a very formidable asset when used correctly."

"Commanding the enemy?"

"More like commanding an army. In ages past, the Voice was used to aid morale in a disheartened army, inspiring them to fight better than ever before. It can be used to command people from harm's way, order obedience in someone already inclined to the behaviour, and may aide a commander in keeping the loyalty of his men. You are fortunate, Harry. This is a gift ordinarily seen only in the greatest of military generals throughout time."

"Bloody wonderful. Why me?"

The dark-haired Gypsy chuckled. "Why anyone? We all ask that question at some point, Harry, and unfortunately the only answer I can give you is the same my grandfather gave me. If not you, then who?"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Tell me, who would you put in your place? That is the question we must ask ourselves. Who do you wish your life on? Ron? Albus Dumbledore? Hermione?"

"NO! I could never wish this on any of them!"

"That, then, is your answer. You have been chosen, Harry, for whatever reason to be who you are, when you are. There is something within you that makes you uniquely suited for a destiny most would flee from." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It is not easy, but from what I have seen, you carry your destiny well."

"But why am I developing a new power now? I thought I was over that years ago."

Ryselle smiled brilliantly and shook her head. "I am afraid not. That is a common misconception perpetuated by those who do not truly understand the nature of magic."

"Then what…"

She held up her hand. "Give me a moment and I will explain."

"Sorry."

"Magic is a very complicated thing, Harry. It does not develop in everyone the same way, but there are certain benchmarks of age that seem to be applicable to all wizards. At the age of eleven, or thereabouts, the initial ability to cast and ultimately control magic manifests itself. Many Wizarding children experience bouts of uncontrolled magic before that, but the control mechanism does not mature until shortly before puberty. It is at that point which one's magic experiences its first growth spurt."

Harry listened raptly as she explained something he had always wondered about.

"The next growth spurt typically happens at the age of thirteen, shortly after puberty. It is not as noticeable, however, since most Wizarding children are in school by then, or being educated in some manner. Sixteen, on the other hand, is quite different. It is a very important age both in the Wizarding and Muggle worlds thanks to the changes it brings. Many societies consider young men and women adults at this age and treat them accordingly. Other societies merely recognize the age as a significant step on the road to adulthood. Young women have their 'sweet sixteen' celebrations and young men are often raised into a higher standing in their families. It was not uncommon a century ago for arranged marriages to take place at that age."

"What does that have to do with me, Professor?"

"You, Harry, possess a truly remarkable gift of magic. A gift along the lines of Albus Dumbledore, my master, the Archwizard, and even Merlin himself. These benchmark increases in power are far more significant in you as a result…"

"But why does it matter?"

Ryselle eyed him sternly. "If I may finish, your questions may be answered."

"Sorry."

"The reason wizards are not given the totality of their magic initially has to do with the human mind's capacity of handling such incredible amounts of power. Power corrupts, Harry, unless one is taught to use it in a moral and just manner. It is easier to teach someone that if they are not carrying around this massive ability to do anything they want. Restriction is necessary."

"But what about Voldemort? He had the same training as me."

"Not completely, Harry. Voldemort went off to study and gain power all on his own after graduation. I suspect he was not prepared for such an increase in power, and that is why he was driven a bit…"

"Barmy?"

"Yes. Ambition is not something controlled by age or power. The lust for power is not something one can tame if the desire is not there. Voldemort never had the desire to restrain his ambition. Thus he searched for every means possible to gain enough power to do whatever it was that he wanted."

"Destroy the Muggle-born."

"And the Muggles. Do not forget how much he hates them as well. Muggle-born are merely guilty by association. Even he realizes they are wizards in their own right."

"So you're saying I've had an increase in my magical abilities?"

"Yes."

Harry began to feel panicked. "What do I do, Professor? I mean, I didn't want to force Ron to do what I wanted, he just…"

"Relax, Harry. I can teach you to harness your abilities, but first you must learn to control your mind."

"What do you mean?"

"Occlumency. You must learn that before I can teach you anything else."

"I thought Headmaster…"

"Harry, Albus Dumbledore has many things on his mind as of late and I do not believe this would be a good time for him to divide his attention. Occlumency requires a great deal of concentration and effort. I assure you I am quite capable of instructing you on this." She looked him in the eyes. "Unless you do not feel you can trust me enough."

"Er… I didn't mean it that way, Professor. I just…"

"He will teach you if you wish it, Harry. I suggest you think it over before making a decision."

Harry nodded. While he trusted Ryselle, especially after spending part of the summer with her, he wasn't completely sure he had enough confidence in her abilities. Not that she did not seem competent. She simply wasn't Albus Dumbledore.

"I'll think about it, Professor. What do I do in the meantime?"

"Meditate, Harry. Try not to get too angry or upset. It will do far more harm than good."

_It's a good thing Malfoy's leaving us alone_, he thought. "I will try, Professor."

"Good." He turned to leave. "Harry."

"Yes, Professor Spellsinger?"

"You are welcome here at any time."

"Thank you."

"But I would suggest keeping an eye out for Professor Snape. I do not think he was pleased with you this evening."

Harry snorted. "It's not just this evening, Professor. Professor Snape makes special effort to be displeased with my very existence. I'm surprised he only gave me a week of detention." Leaving his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor gazing after him, Harry headed back to Gryffindor. There were no doubt several hard questions awaiting him and he figured now would be a good time to explain while things were fresh in his mind. Boy, did he owe Ron an apology.

Ron and Hermione were still studying in the common room when he returned to Gryffindor. A slight gesture toward the fire indicated his desire to speak with them. No one else was paying attention to them. It was not uncommon for the Trio to take over the couches by the fires and talk quietly about things few in Gryffindor really wanted to think about. Neville, Seamus, and Dean moved to take their places at the table after the three students moved.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione took a seat next to Harry on the couch, unconsciously taking his hand. Ron frowned at the familiar gesture.

"Er… it's about this evening." He looked Ron in the eyes. "Uh… I owe you an apology, Ron."

"What for?"

"Uh… well… I kinda was responsible for forcing you to sit down."

"WHAT?"

Hermione gestured frantically at the angry redhead. "Shhhh! Do you want everyone to hear, Ron?"

"Fine. What happened, Harry?"

"Well, I talked with Professor Spellsinger…" Harry proceeded to give his two best friends the same lecture he'd received from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Both listened raptly until he was finished and then Ron unexpectedly sprang to his feet.

"That's not fair!"

Harry looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"You've got everything. Fame, money, now you get to inherit the bloody powers of Merlin? Bugger it all, Harry! When am I going to get something like that?"

"Ronald! Sit down!" Hermione hissed.

"You've even got Hermione! The only thing I have is a bloody insane owl that can barely deliver letters."

"Ron, I haven't 'got' Hermione. She belongs to herself. And as for what do you have that I don't – maybe you should take a look at your sister sometime. And your brothers. And your bloody parents! You have a life I would willingly give up all the fame, money, and power for! It's too bad you don't appreciate it!"

"And 'Mione? Would you give her up too?"

"Never!" Harry glared fiercely at his best friend.

"Ronald, how could you ask that?" Hermione exclaimed indignantly.

"What? It's a fair question."

"No, it's not! Harry wants a family, Ron, and friends. I don't think he'd give you up either. Would you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "You're both my best friends."

"Some of us more than others," said Ron, glaring at Hermione.

"That's not fair!"

"Don't take this conversation where you don't want it to go, Ron," warned Harry.

"Oh yeah? What if I want it to go there? What if I want to know who you would choose. Me or her. What would it be?"

SMACK! Ron winced as his sister smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't you dare ask that ever again, Ronald Weasley. You know that's not a fair question. And it's certainly not a question you should be asking your best friend!"

Ron glared at his sister, and then raked Harry and Hermione with his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't need an answer to that anyway. I already know." With a final glare at Julian, he stalked off.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?"

"Ron's jealous, Ginny. He doesn't like the fact that Hermione and I are obviously getting along as more than friends."

Ginny shrugged. "He'll get over it. Come on, Julian. Let's leave the love birds to themselves."

Harry and Hermione smiled in amusement as Ginny dragged the proper Gryffindor over to one of the other couches and pushed him into it. Who knew Ginny was so assertive?

Hermione chuckled. "I hope Ron doesn't come back while her tongue is down Julian's throat like that."

"No kidding. When did they get so serious?"

"It's been building. He's quite the gentleman and she's really taken with that. Merlin knows she's been trying to get him to snog her for several weeks now."

"It looks like he lost some of his shyness."

"Ginny can do that to a guy." Hermione sighed. "I wish I could do that."

Harry grinned at her. "Oh really, Miss Granger? Who's to say you can't?"

Hermione's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well, I can… But would I…?"

In a heartbeat Harry's arms were wrapped around her and his lips glued to hers. Ordinarily she would be incredibly shy about doing something like this in a room full of their housemates, but everyone had been so supportive of their relationship that she almost felt like they were alone. She decided to ignore their location and threw herself into the kiss, her heart full of Harry.

She never saw his eyes glow or the Disillusionment Charm that covered them.

The next day, things were not going well for Draco Malfoy. It had been slightly under a month since the start of the term and he found himself sitting in the Slytherin great room contemplating some of the rumours he'd been hearing. The fact that Granger and Potter finally got together meant very little to him, but apparently it was what passed for Big News these days in Slytherin house. Bloody hell. How the mighty have fallen.

The lethargy that permeated his house these days could be directly attributed to the fiasco at the Ministry of Magic last year. Thanks to his father and those bloody idiots he called friends, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were now a terrible reality to the rest of the Wizarding world and Slytherin house was under close scrutiny by all sides. He'd hate to think what Snape was going through. It was fortunate the dark wizard had absented himself from the activities of that night. Otherwise there'd be no support for pure-bloods at this school.

It was fortunate the headmaster refused to allow his father's actions to affect his standing this year. Draco was a Prefect again and with it came a great deal of influence that he did not really need to work for. Truth be told, he was tired of it. Every bloody year since he got to this school he'd been under pressure to find a way to humiliate Potter and beat Granger at academics. Every bloody year he failed and was forced to listen to his father lecture him on his duties as a Malfoy and the expectations of being a pure-blood.

Bugger.

The best thing about last year's fiasco was that it landed his father in Azkaban. He honestly figured his father would get out of it soon, but until then he was free of the evil bastard's influence. Over the summer, Draco had found himself increasingly indifferent to what was happening in the Wizarding world. Voldemort was obsessed with destroying Harry Potter, and because of his arrogance, Draco's father and several other Death Eaters were in Azkaban. He really could care less. Draco was never really loyal to his father. Loyalty was not something rewarded in his family. The past summer wound up being an exercise in consolidating power. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had moved immediately to gain control of all Malfoy assets upon his father's imprisonment. Her actions began a fight with her son that lasted all summer. At the end of it, Draco still had total control over his assets and those of his father. Narcissa was forced to step away and make due with her own considerable Black assets. She was in a fight to keep those, however, because a little known clause in the Black family will stated that the estate could not be inherited by someone involved with the death of a family member. Since Narcissa had been instrumental in setting up the events leading to Sirius' death, it was unlikely she would get anything. Draco found it very entertaining.

Meanwhile, the silver-eyed Slytherin had spent a great deal of time thinking about his future and what he wanted out of life. What he found surprised him. Last year he had been willing to do anything to stay on the good side of his father and the Dark Lord. His greatest ambition was to serve the cause of pure-blood domination at the side of his father and his Lord. To that end he did everything in his power to support that crazy bint Umbridge. The influence he garnered as one of her lackey's was very satisfying, and being the head of the Inquisitorial Squad was well worth the fawning he forced Crabbe and Goyle to do.

Unfortunately it did not last.

He fully expected Potter to find a way to wriggle out of Umbridge's clutches, but the manner in which he went about it surprised him. He never knew the Mudblood could be so convincingly dishonest. He was impressed. Later he found out what happened and it was all he could do not to laugh. Only someone as stupid as Delores Umbridge would go on a tirade to the Centaurs in their own forest. It was mere hours after that which found his father and several other Death Eaters being carted away to Azkaban.

He'd been angry at first. It was a knee-jerk reaction prompted by years of condition by his father. Then he thought about it. With the senior Malfoy out of the way, Draco was the head of one of the most powerful families in the Wizarding world. Excellent. The next day he moved to consolidate that power, thinking he could figure out a way to help in the fight against those dirty blood traitors and Mudbloods.

He never expected to find out it was all a lie.

Several of the Death Eaters that had been in the Ministry last year had brought up some questions about Voldemort. The most significant being Harry Potter's assertion that Tom Riddle was a half-blood. Draco knew no one was supposed to know about what Potter said, but Bellatrix Lestrange couldn't help but brag about her actions that night. A week after the term ended, Draco was on an information-gathering mission at his house when he overheard his mother and her sister talking. Interested, he settled down in preparation for some surprising revelations. What he heard shocked him.

According to his mother, Tom Riddle had been the child of a witch descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Muggle. He grew up with an incredible hatred of his heritage, and went so far as to create an alternate identity to remove himself from the taint of his father's non-magical nature. Upon graduation, he killed the rest of his family and disappeared to learn magic from the most evil and depraved wizards in existence. When he returned, he was truly Lord Voldemort – the most powerful dark wizard living. In his quest for power, he gathered together a group of followers known as Death Eaters. Some were truly loyal to him, but most served him through fear and the desire for power. Voldemort spoke of the days when Mudbloods would cease to exist and the Wizarding world would be returned to the control of those deserving it. His followers assumed he meant them.

Bellatrix Lestrange was floored. Harry Potter had told her Voldemort was a half-breed, but she refused to believe him. She had grown up with the Black family's opinion of Mudbloods and had joined Voldemort to eliminate them. She couldn't comprehend the fact that the most powerful wizard alive was the child of a witch and a Muggle. Even Harry Potter was closer to being a pure-blood. His mother was a Mudblood, and his father was a wizard. Narcissa made her sister swear to keep the information secret. Voldemort would kill them if he thought they might undermine his cause. They had chosen their course, and were stuck with it.

Draco, on the other hand, was not. Over the years he had studied the rise and fall of the world's greatest dictators. He had always wanted power, and chose to learn from the mistakes of others. One of the reasons he had been so loyal to Voldemort and his cause was because of the promise of power. Draco's father sat at Voldemort's right hand, and promised Draco he would have a similar position should he prove himself. For five years he did everything in his power to support the cause. It was only after his fourth year at Hogwarts that he had experienced a moment of doubt. After Cedric Diggory's death, he found out that Voldemort and his father lied about the circumstances. It was one thing to kill someone because they opposed the cause. But Cedric had been killed for the simple reason he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Voldemort hadn't even seen the boy as worthy of his time. Draco was surprised. The Diggorys were one of the oldest pureblood families around. He would have at least expected Voldemort to offer Cedric the opportunity to join him. But the Dark Lord had acknowledged his presence only long enough to order his death.

That, combined with a number of disturbing things he had heard during the year resulted in Draco seriously reconsidering his allegiance. He came to the realization that the power Voldemort offered was an illusion. Like many great overlords in history, he had no intentions of sharing with his faithful followers. After his cause was won, his followers would be cast aside to be ruled along with everyone else. That might be okay with Draco's father, but he never wanted to be someone's lackey. Draco finally came to the decision that he needed to find a way to disassociate himself.

He refused to shout his defiance from the rooftops as someone like Potter would probably do. He valued his life and had no desire for his father to come back and kill him for being a traitor. Instead he realized he needed to start small. Get his parents thinking he was just a normal teenager going through the process of growing up. Lucius had told him stories of his days at Hogwarts and the wild things he'd done along with his young protégé, Severus Snape. Surely neither of them would find it odd that he decided to shake things up a bit.

The first thing he did was change his wardrobe. He was tired of dressing like a miniature version of Lucius Malfoy. With his newfound wealth, he went on a shopping spree he knew would send his father into convulsions if he saw the bill. He purchased dragonskin jackets, boots, and pants for the base of his new look. He was well aware that he was lithe and athletic as a result of playing Quiddich all summer, and had finally grown in to a nice set of broad shoulders. His shirt selection consisted of dark open-collared shirts, designed to show off his broad chest and narrow waist, a few collarless button up shirts, and some basic casual shirts. He also purchased several skin-tight shirts after he tried one on and saw how it brought out his muscles. He was pleased with the results, as were several women he saw later that day.

The final touches to his wardrobe were a silver and jade choker with an oriental dragon pendant, and a small jade earring in his left ear. He decided to stop slicking back his hair and wore it long, sometimes tied back with a leather thong. The Draco Malfoy that returned home to his mansion little resembled the one that had left. His mother was shocked.

"_Draco?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Draco, what on earth are you wearing?"_

"_They typically call them clothes, mother," he drawled coldly._

"_Don't you be pert with me, young man. I mean why are you wearing those clothes?"_

"_Because I like them."_

"_Draco Malfoy, I command you to go to your room and change into something more appropriate to your station. You're a disgrace! You look like a hoodlum."_

_Draco's eyes lazily shifted to his mother. "No."_

_Her eyes flew open in shock. "What did you say!"_

_He smirked. "I said no. Really, mother, you might want to get your hearing checked. They say it's one of the first things to go."_

_In a few quick steps she was over to her son. "How dare you talk back with me! That was not a request, Draco; that was an order."_

_He shrugged._

_In the blink of an eye her hand flew up to slap his face. It never got there, however, since he caught it inches from his cheek. His eyes went flat. "Really, mother, one would think that you would understand that slapping me is an exercise in futility. Your hand is nowhere near as challenging to catch as the Snitch." His grip tightened. "I suggest you leave me alone. My choice of wardrobe is exactly that: my choice. If you don't like it…" He shrugged. "I honestly don't care." Dropping his mother's hand, Draco sauntered past her to his rooms smirking the whole way there._

The next several weeks were a trial for Draco and his mother. She had serious problems with the new Draco Malfoy, and did everything in her power to convince him to change back. He stubbornly ignored her. She even went so far as to mention it to Draco's father in Azkaban. To her surprise, he simply laughed. He did not care what his son wore, as long as he continued to serve Voldemort faithfully. Lucius even suggested that a little rebellion might be good for the boy.

Draco was pleased with the results of his little rebellion. He had always done what his father wanted him to do. Now his father was in prison, and his mother was fighting for her inheritance. This summer had been unlike any he'd ever experienced. Thanks to his parents' absences, he was given an unprecedented amount of freedom. He discovered he liked it. Freedom was the greatest power he could imagine. Things suddenly changed. He had no desire to turn his life over to some old snake-faced half-breed, but he also knew his life was forfeit if Voldemort found out. But they would do nothing until he graduated. He knew his father already had his initiation into the Death Eaters planned for the night of his graduation. Thanks to Severus Snape, Lucius had been convinced to allow Draco to complete school before joining the ranks of Voldemort's followers.

That would never happen if he had anything to say about it.

Draco returned to school a changed man. On the surface, he still appeared fairly normal; the Hogwarts school uniforms left very little in the way of personal expression, but his entire attitude was different. Before this year he had always taken over one of the compartments for himself and a few faithful followers. This year, he kept to himself. He did not even bother to taunt Potter. His enthusiasm for that faded with his desire to please his father. Crabbe and Goyle had left him alone, which relieved him, and the rest of Slytherin was apparently flocking around a new boy from Durmstrang. The old Draco would have immediately seized control of the situation and ground the new boy into dust. The new one simply did not care. He still possessed enough arrogance to know that no one could take his place.

Draco was a prefect again this year and reveled in the power it afforded him. No one in Slytherin could do anything to hurt him, and being Snape's favorite, they knew he could pretty much get away with anything. He wondered who Pansy's new bed-toy was. She'd broken up with him shortly before school started, but he was honestly completely unconcerned. Now he had a pretty good idea why. During the opening feast he had examined all the new students to identify which ones might be a threat. Only one of them came to mind. Pansy would never ally herself with someone that couldn't give her the life of leisure she expected, or the social influence she craved. He noticed her and Eric Hadenthor fawning all over one of the new Slytherins and speculated that he was Pansy's new interest.

He knew the young man had transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrang on his father's orders. Apparently the old man wanted his son to attend the same school that had produced Voldemort and some of the greatest Death Eaters of all time. His name was Thanos Acheron – probably the single most melodramatic name Draco had ever heard. He was six feet tall and possessed the strong, athletic visage of a Greek gladiator. He had black hair, dark eyes, and an infectious smile calculated to bring the women to their knees in adoration. He was incredibly good-looking, even Draco had to admit that, and had caught the eyes of a number of ladies from all the houses, including Pansy. He moved like a giant cat, with the arrogance of someone who knew he was the king of all he surveyed. Draco immediately realized he would eventually have to put a stop to that.

The first week back was an amusing exercise in watching the new boy do his best to consolidate his power amongst Slytherin House. The boy spent inordinate amounts of time fawning all over Snape, who gazed at him with greater amounts of loathing each day. Thanos and Pansy were inseparable which apparently seemed to indicate to him that he was something special. Obviously the bloody fool knew nothing of his new girlfriend.

Draco almost laughed out loud at the shameless bragging and posturing the boy did any time he found himself in the common area. Just for his amusement, he'd snuck in one night under his Invisibility Cloak to see what the boy acted like when Draco wasn't watching. There was little change, but the dark-haired Slytherin did seem to deflate a bit. Hmm. Too bad he was such a bloody moron.

Ten days after the start of the term, Draco decided to make the formal acquaintance of the new boy. The statement of his value had been made to the rest of the House and prolonging his silence further would only be construed as immature and rude.

Draco strolled into the room and glanced disinterestedly around. The new boy was there with Pansy and several other younger girls drooling all over him. It was pathetic. He carefully schooled his expression into neutrality and approached the group.

As expected, the boy rose to greet him, dislodging several of his fawning groupies. Despite the fact that Pansy and him were no longer together, it still irritated Draco that she was all over the bloody prat. He frowned. While he may not like Pansy, she was still his. Despite what she might want to think.

"Draco Malfoy?" Even his voice was calculated to entrance.

"Yes?" Draco gazed uninterestedly at the new boy.

Thanos came over to Draco and held out his hand. "It's an honor to meet you." Malfoy reluctantly took it. "I have always wanted to meet the infamous Draco Malfoy. Son of Lucius, one of the greatest Death Eaters that has ever lived!"

Draco narrowly avoided rolling his eyes. Extracting his hand, he smirked at the new Slytherin. Now it was time to put the new boy in his place.

"I'm glad I could help you achieve one of your life goals, Thanos. Now if you will excuse me, I have a Prefect meeting to attend." Without a glance back, he sauntered past Thanos, smirking.

Thanos Acheron glared at Draco as he walked away. That little bastard. How dare he ignore him like that? Fine. _If that's the way he wants it_, he thought menacingly_, then that's the way we'll play it._ As a concession to his father's respect for the elder Malfoy, Thanos had been willing to offer Draco a place in the new order of things. A place almost as high as his. But the bloody prat's attitude guaranteed to be an issue and he decided then and there that something needed to be done. Smirking at Pansy, Thanos began to formulate a plan. He had stolen the fair-haired Slytherin's girl with very little problem. The rest should be easy.

A few short days later, he found himself regretting those thoughts.

Thanos was determined to win over the loyalty of his fellow Slytherins. He underestimated the amount of influence the Malfoy boy had over them, and had yet to make any significant headway. Even after getting the Parkinson girl. That bothered him. When he was at Durmstrang, he was the top dog. He never had to climb his way up the food chain, and discovered he did not like it very much. It was already obvious that most of the school thought Slytherin House was simply a haven for Death Eaters in training. Laboring against that reputation, combined with the incredible influence Draco Malfoy commanded made his campaign to control Slytherin and win over the other Houses almost impossible. He decided that he needed help. More importantly, he needed some way to discredit Malfoy.

He originally thought Pansy Parkinson would be his best resource for finding out about Draco Malfoy. So he agreed to start dating her shortly before the term began. Unfortunately he was mistaken. Pansy was very elemental in her desires and very simple in her knowledge. She could tell him in great detail everything Draco was capable of doing in bed, but when asked what motivated him, she would shrug and say, "Who cares?" He couldn't believe the girl had dated Malfoy for several years and still knew nothing about him. Still, he decided to keep dating her in hopes that it would at least bother the Slytherin prefect. He was limited on the things he could do to the boy because of his position, so Thanos tried small things at first.

For his part, Draco was amused. Thanos had nothing on his father for intrigue. Draco had learned from the best. He was well aware of what Thanos was doing, and really did not care very much. However, humiliating Thanos Acheron was something Draco could really get in to, so he decided to set up a little lesson for the arrogant new Slytherin.

Voldemort was very careful to tell his Death Eaters that his failure to destroy Harry Potter was all part of his overall plan. Most of them were not stupid enough to believe him, but none would gainsay him. Draco figured Thanos for the stupid type. He felt it was time the boy was introduced to the joy that was involved with coming to the attention of Harry Potter. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he knew Harry was very skilled when it came to magic. Draco was not too far behind, but he had seen enough of Thanos' skills to know the boy was nowhere near Harry's level in proficiency. Draco made sure Thanos was told that the only way to gain the adoration of all Slytherin, including Professor Snape, was to challenge and defeat Harry Potter in a wizards' duel. A small bit of stung pride was all it would take for the arrogant git to set himself up for an ass-kicking. Draco figured that if Potter lost to Thanos, then he deserved the humiliation.

It wasn't long before Draco was ready to implement his plan. During the past month, Professor Spellsinger had spent a great deal of time getting them caught up on everything they had missed last year. High Inquisitor Umbridge had done serious damage to the teachers' lesson plans, so everyone was pushing hard to get current. Draco did not mind. He preferred to stay busy learning than participating in the joke his House called intrigue. Draco had just spent the previous week dropping comments around other students about Thanos' ability to stand up to Harry. He made sure none of the innuendo could be traced back to him, then sat back to watch the sparks fly. It was Eric Hadenthor that pushed Thanos over the edge. Exactly as Draco had expected him to.

Thanos bristled belligerently at the young man in front of him. "What do you mean, prove myself?"

"Thanos, the only way you are going to be able to get the loyalty of our House is to prove that you are better than Malfoy."

Thanos turned up his nose. "I am better than Malfoy."

"Then you need to show people."

"How?"

Eric pointed down the hallway to where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were conversing with three other Gryffindors. "Malfoy has never been able to defeat Potter in a duel…"

A slow smile spread across the Greek boy's face. "But if I beat him, then all of Slytherin will worship me!"

Draco smirked evilly. This really was too good to be true. Time for part two of his plan. Draco stepped out from around the corner, narrowly missing a collision with Thanos. "Hey! Watch where you're going!"

Draco looked at him with contempt. "You should instead stay out of my way, Thanos. Step aside for your superior!"

Thanos stepped forward, threateningly. "You are not my superior, Malfoy," he snarled.

Draco shrugged indifferently. "Think whatever you want. Reality does not change because of your insignificant desires." The silver-haired Slytherin walked past the two boys without a glance back.

"Oh yeah?" yelled Thanos from behind him. "Watch this!" Thanos stalked over to where the Gryffindors had gathered to talk about their lesson for today. Harry had obviously learned it well and was giving pointers to the other students. His sentence trailed off as the attention of his housemates was diverted by the approach of a very angry Slytherin. He looked up curiously.

"You! Potter! We have something to settle!"

Harry frowned. "Not that I'm aware of…" he searched for the name.

Thanos was infuriated more by the Gryffindor's ignorance. "Thanos. Thanos Acheron."

Harry nodded. "Ah, right. Sorry. So what can I do for you, Thanos?"

Thanos pulled out his wand. "You can start by preparing yourself!"

Six Gryffindors' wands appeared in their hands. It was all Draco could do not to laugh.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded a musical voice.

_Uh oh_, smirked Draco,_ this can't be good for Thanos._

"None of your business!" he snarled, turning to face the owner of the voice.

Professor Spellsinger raised an eyebrow, ignoring the fact that the angry student towered over her by nearly a foot. "Really? And here I thought it was my job to make sure students obeyed the rules." Her glare pierced him. "25 points from Slytherin."

"But…"

"You wish to argue Mr. Acheron? I assure you, I am well aware of the situation as it occurred right outside my office. If you wish to tell me a story, you can do it in detention tonight."

"Uh, no, uh that's quite all right."

She nodded, turning to leave. "Good."

Eric Hadenthor stepped forward. "Ma'am?" he started hesitantly.

"Yes, Mr. Hadenthor?"

"Uh, well, uh, Thanos did challenge Harry to a duel, ma'am. Uh, shouldn't that be taken care of?"

"Yes, it should." Professor Snape marched up, glaring at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

She nodded reluctantly. "Very well, if Harry accepts, then it will be done tonight in the dueling hall." She eyed the Slytherin head of house. "Under the rules."

Snape looked irritated.

The Gypsy teacher looked over to Harry. "Do you accept Mr. Acheron's challenge, Harry?"

He gazed thoughtfully at Thanos for a moment, and then shrugged. "Sure. It will be good practice."

Draco could barely keep the glee off his face. This evening promised to be very interesting.

The day passed quickly, anticipation of this evening's duel kept everyone excited and on edge. All of Gryffindor was looking forward to seeing Harry defeat Thanos Acheron. In just a few short weeks, the boy had done a great deal to alienate a number of the students with his superiour attitude.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione arrived at the Dueling Hall early, but it was already packed. Harry could have sworn that all of Gryffindor and Slytherin had turned out for tonight's duel, not to mention large portions of the other houses. He had no idea what had prompted the new boy's hostility, but Hermione theorized it was his way of establishing himself in his new House. She was probably right. He was curious, however, as to why the boy had not challenged Draco Malfoy. He was the one that led Slytherin. One would think he would rather fight with Malfoy than him.

_Must be some Death Eater thing_, he mused.

Looking around the room, he spotted Malfoy in one of the room's corners, chatting with Professor Snape. Harry had been surprised this year by the change in him. Every year since he started going to Hogwarts, Malfoy had done everything in his power to make his life hell. Now the silvery-haired Slytherin seemed completely indifferent. The only time they competed now was in class and on the Quiddich field. There were other changes as well. Several of the girls in Gryffindor had noticed Malfoy's change in wardrobe. He still wore his Hogwarts robes, but underneath was a completely different story.

Draco Malfoy's new clothing appeared to be calculated to make any girl looking at him swoon. Even Harry had to admit the Slytherin Prefect looked good. Ron was incensed. His little sister Ginny had been overheard talking with some other girls about how dreamy he had gotten. Ron himself had bulked up a bit, but was still very tall and gangly. Harry had also developed in musculature, and while not as tall as Ron, still had a respectable height and an athletic form. He almost wished he could have the type of clothing Malfoy had. Harry had to admit it showed the young man off to good effect.

Thanos Acheron entered the room as a king before his subjects. Harry rolled his eyes. The boy really needed an attitude adjustment. He almost hoped Malfoy would take an interest and knock him down a peg. _I guess it's up to me_, he observed.

Professor Spellsinger stepped forward and ordered everyone out of the dueling area. Thanos and Harry stepped up, and she quickly ran down the rules. She emphasized to Thanos that an Unforgivable Curse was forbidden and would be met with harsh punishment.

The two boys stepped into the dueling arena, and assumed dueling positions. Professors Spellsinger and Snape sent up the signal to start, and Thanos immediately pointed his wand at Harry. "_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Incipicoeos_!" Harry still held his wand.

"_Stupefy_!"

Thanos dodged to the side, and flung another curse. "_Expulsum_!"

"_Speculum_!"

Thanos was flung back as his curse rebounded.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Harry stood over the Slytherin as his body stiffened and became immobile. He lowered his wand, and gave a slight bow to the two teachers. Snape looked extremely disappointed. Draco, however, was impressed. Obviously Harry had learned a thing or two since last year.

"Well, I believe that settles that, does it not, Professor?" inquired Ryselle.

Snape nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Ten points to Gryffindor for a brilliant showing in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well done, Harry."

The Gryffindor beamed.

Ryselle pointed her wand at Thanos. "_Ennervate_."

He got up, eyes burning with hatred for his opponent. Draco smirked. Now Thanos would put all his energies toward humiliating Harry Potter. No matter how it turned out, it would provide lots of amusement for the Slytherin prefect.

Ryselle offered her hand to the dark-haired Slytherin. "If you would like, Thanos. I could arrange for you to have more tutoring if your performance was not to your satisfaction."

Ignoring her hand, he got up. "No, thank you," he muttered. Thanos stalked off to the dungeons, angry at being defeated. He swore Harry Potter would pay.


	6. Questionable Judgement

Thanks to all of you that reviewed, and thank you all for continuing to read. I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Once again, I remind everyone that this is AU and has nothing to do with HBP. Any resemblance to situations in that book are odd coincidence.

* * *

Six weeks into the term, Ryselle came to the realization that the students were rapidly approaching the time where they would exceed her ability to continue teaching them. Part of it was due to the incredible determination they showed in learning, as well as a testament to Harry's ability as a leader to help them. She needed to find someone she could practice and learn from, as well as try out new spells she read about in the books her grandfather gave her.

She went to Headmaster Dumbledore, and to her dismay, he had a single recommendation for her. Severus Snape. She had no real idea what to think of the man, having been snubbed by him every time their paths crossed. He was hostile, rude, and made her angry like no one ever had. She got the feeling he disapproved of her for some reason, but was unwilling to confront him about it. Now she was in the awkward position of needing his help. She sighed. The fates worked in mysterious ways.

Ryselle hesitated at the door of the dungeon. She had observed a number of things about Hogwarts' Potions master, very little of it good. He was unfriendly and snide, with a healthy hatred of anything not Slytherin. However, the Headmaster recommended him unequivocally, and she trusted his judgment. According to Dumbledore, Snape had been trying to win the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ever since he came to Hogwarts. He was quite good, said the older man, but there were reasons he was better in the position he was in now. The number one reason being his ability with Potions. Professor Snape apparently had a significant gift with creating magical elixirs and unguents.

That must be what made up for his deficiencies in the personality department.

Resolving to not be intimidated by the man, she raised her hand to knock on the door. Before she could move, it swung open and she narrowly avoided hitting the dark-haired man in the face.

"Oh! My apologies!" Ryselle snatched her hand back.

The man stepped back, glaring at her. "I presume there is something you need, Professor Spellsinger?"

"Uh…Yes. I… uh, had a request to make of you."

He frowned, stepping aside to let her in. "Very well. I believe I can spare a moment."

Ryselle walked in the room and looked around. She was fascinated by the variety of potions' ingredients and spell components she saw there.

"There was something you wanted?" Snape's harsh voice pulled her attention back to him.

She smiled. "Yes. I was just wondering if you might be willing to spare some of your time twice a week."

He raised an eyebrow.

"For practice. I need a dueling partner."

"Is there a specific reason you chose me for this glorious honor?"

She winced at the sarcasm in his voice. "Yes. Headmaster Dumbledore suggested I ask you. He says you are quite accomplished."

"Not accomplished enough, it seems," he muttered. He studied her. "Why not a student? Precious Potter, perhaps."

"I had not really considered it, Professor Snape. I would prefer to duel with someone that knows more than the average wizard. I am conducting a dueling club to work with the students."

"Hopefully it will be more successful than the last."

"I certainly intend for it to be. Your help would do a great deal toward accomplishing that."

"I see. Is anyone eligible to join this dueling club?"

"Of course. There is no prejudice in my classroom."

"Not even against Slytherin?"

She sighed, exasperated. "Professor Snape, you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I actually care about this house rivalry thing. In all honesty, I think it is stupid and pathetic. I do not care what house the students are in, I am here to teach them to defend themselves."

He looked taken aback. "Then you did not attend a school with Houses?"

She shook her head. "No. I was apprenticed to a wizard."

He seemed almost interested. "I see. Well then, I believe I might spare a bit of my time to practice with you, Professor Spellsinger. If you should wish some aid in your dueling club, feel free to ask for that as well." He opened the door. "Now if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to."

"Of course. Thank you, Professor." She took the hint and left, wondering what she had just gotten herself into.

"When is the first practice?"

She stopped, cursing herself for her absentmindedness. "Would Wednesday be good? We can work out a schedule then."

"Very well." The door closed behind her.

_I guess that went well_, she thought. Shaking her head, she went back to her rooms to settle down for the evening with a book and a nice cup of tea.

Two nights later, Severus Snape showed up clad in his usual dark robes and frown. Ryselle had set up a large dueling area in the practice room and was waiting for him to arrive. She got the feeling he would be offended if she were late. She smiled in greeting as he entered the room and headed his direction.

"Professor Snape. Thank you for coming."

He glowered at her. "Shall we begin?"

Her smile faded. "Sure. Standard rules?"

He gave a curt nod.

The two professors took their positions on the dueling mat, saluted each other and moved the proscribed distance. Both turned simultaneously, releasing their first spells.

"_Macto Caecus_!"

"_Impedimentia_!"

Ryselle was surprised as the Blinding Curse struck her. The last thing she saw was her curse strike Snape. Knowing that he would be slower now, she dodged aside and brandished her wand.

"_Protego_!" A golden shield appeared between her and Snape, deflecting his next curse.

"_Petrifictus Totalus_!"

Ryselle aimed for the sound of his voice, glad for once that Aechyrus had force her to train blindfolded. "_Locomortor mortis_!" She heard a thud as Snape's legs locked and he hit the ground. Using the sound as her target, she cast a final spell. "_Petrifictus Totalus_!"

She moved aside, hoping she succeeded in disabling the Potions master. A few moments passed, and no more curses were thrown. She pointed her wand at herself and muttered, "_Reverti Conspicio_." Her vision returned, and she walked over to Professor Snape. He lay on the ground, paralyzed, looking annoyed as always.

"_Evervate_."

Snape sat up, glowering at her. "That was not amusing."

She smiled. "Good job with the Blinding Curse, though. I was not expecting that."

"Few do." She held out her hand to help him up. He ignored it, grimacing as he rose. "I hate that blasted curse. How did you target me?"

"One of the things I did in my youth was train to target sounds while blindfolded. I was able to locate you after you cast your Paralyzation Curse."

He raised an eyebrow after that. "I see. Well, it appears you at least have a greater body of knowledge than the other teachers to hold this position. That is good."

"You have a good body of knowledge yourself, Professor. The Blinding Curse is not so common that everyone knows it."

"Nor is the countercurse. Why did you not restore your vision first?"

"Because I figured you would be ready for that and I did not want to open myself for an attack."

"So instead you protected yourself." He nodded. "Very good. I did not expect that response."

"Thank you for the practice, Professor Snape. It was most enlightening. Shall we give it another go?"

Snape frowned. "I suppose we should." He moved to assume a dueling position, and they began again.

Later that evening, Ryselle returned to her room a lot sorer than when she left it. When she had asked Severus Snape to be her dueling partner, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. He had a wide body of knowledge as extensive as her own. She was very impressed. He also had no qualms about using it to win. As it was, in the four duels they fought earlier in the evening, she lost one to him because he used a curse she was unfamiliar with and another because of his ruthlessness. She was delighted. The challenge stimulated her, as did the opportunity to learn a new spell. Afterwards they discussed the curse and countercurse. Ryselle reflected that any day one learned something new; it was not a wasted day.

But that didn't change the fact she was incredibly sore. Snape had used the Blasting Curse on her on three separate occasions, two of which resulted in her flying across the room. Fortunately, there was something she could do about that, so while she drew herself a bath she hummed the Gypsy Healing song to herself. By the time her bath was ready, her aches and bruises had faded to a tolerable level. She climbed in the bath and relaxed, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks and the things she had heard about from previous years.

It was obvious that last year was severely damaging to the students in more ways than one. Admittedly, the most visible was the students' lack of training in defending against the dark arts, but there were also issues of trust and confidence. Their first dueling club went far worse than she ever imagined, but after hearing about what happened at the Ministry and the school the year previous, a great deal of it made sense. Poor Harry. He was the focus of it all.

It seemed the "High Inquisitor" really had it out for the young Gryffindor, and spent the entire year doing her best to break his spirit. From what she had seen during the summer, she almost succeeded. She noticed the faint scars on his arms from where someone made him use one of those ruddy pens. It surprised her that the Ministry stood by and let one of their agents use a Dark Magic artifact. She supposed they thought the ends justified the means. After talking with some of the other professors, however, she was convinced it was more than that. It seemed as if the High Inquisitor had some personal vendetta against him.

As a matter of fact, Professor Snape seemed to suffer from a similar prejudice. She wondered at the cause. Sirius had mentioned to her that the dark Slytherin had a rivalry with the elder Potter in school, but surely the man had grown out of it by now. It was odd. From everything she heard, Harry was a good student, if a bit loose with the rules. Every time he broke the rules, however, he did so for a noble purpose. Without Harry, the "Dark Lord" would have achieved a great deal more than he currently had.

Being a Gypsy, she had a certain casual disregard for rules herself, so she did not see what the problem was. He defeated Voldemort his first year, rescued Ginny Weasley and prevented the Dark Lord's return his second year, held his own against Dementors his third year, and made a brilliant showing in the Triwizard Tournament his fourth year. He also survived a direct confrontation with Voldemort on the night he came back. All very impressive feats for a wizard his age. Of any age for that matter.

She admitted that Harry was one of the primary reasons she had pushed for the dueling club. He needed to be trained up as much as possible before his final confrontation with the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to get that with the regular curriculum. Ryselle just hoped the Ministry didn't interfere. From their behaviour last year, very little would have surprised her. All the kids needed practice; especially with things being the way they were in the outside world. Unfortunately, it seemed the Ministry of Magic was still desperately pretending things were not as bad as they were, something that amazed her, but she didn't see why they would have a problem with the children learning how to defend themselves.

She sat back in the bath, allowing the hot water to soak away the remaining bruises. Harry still seemed afraid to ask her for help, and was obviously struggling through his evolution as a wizard by himself. Maybe if Sirius had been able to tell Harry about her the young man would feel more comfortable with her. But that had simply not been possible as long as Albus Dumbledore wanted her existence kept secret.

Things would have to change soon. She could sense the growing power within him and it was only a matter of time before something serious happened to spur him to confide either in her or the headmaster. Hopefully things would not be too serious.

Sirius. By the gods did she miss him. Being in this school was a constant reminder of what she'd lost and sometimes it was too much to bear. It was painful, but she doubted she had it as hard as poor Harry. The boy had pretty much no one but his friends now. Sirius had just begun to move into place as his surrogate father when he was taken from them. Tears welled in her eyes. She missed him so much. Grief stuck in her throat as she thought about all they had shared. She should have told him how she felt. At least then she would have the comfort of knowing he knew she loved him.

Bugger. She needed to stop wallowing in her grief.

Forcing her mind away from the handsome, dark-haired Gryffindor she'd come to love, her mind wandered for a short while, finally settling on the enigma that was Hogwarts' Potions teacher. Ryselle was confounded by him. He seemed incredibly unfriendly and distant, yet she sensed he had a great deal of caring for the school and its students. He fascinated her, she freely admitted, being such a contradiction. She wondered what the true Severus Snape was like. Hopefully as they continued their practices, he would loosen up a bit and she could find out who the person beneath the cold exterior was. She did not think he was so cold deep down.

She sighed as a wave of loneliness washed over her. For most of her life she had been in the virtually constant presence of her grandfather, Aechyrus. As a Gypsy, she was accustomed to social interaction. But it seemed the professors here were all very private people, having little interaction beyond the classroom. Minerva McGonagall was friendly to her, as were several of the other teachers, but none of them evidenced an interest in friendship outside of their professional lives. Ryselle secretly admitted she missed Sirius. He had spoiled her over the past year with his almost constant presence.

Ryselle frowned as she realized she was moving back into self-pity. She mentally slapped herself, and crawled out of the bath to get ready for bed. Picking up a new book on the Dark Arts, she prepared herself for a long evening of study. She needed it if she was going to keep up with Professor Snape.

The next morning started out very badly for Draco Malfoy. Somehow he overslept, making it impossible for him to get breakfast if he wanted to get to class on time. Admittedly, if he skipped his shower he could have grabbed something. But he wasn't a Weasley to go to class crusted with his own filth. In a ritual as old as he could remember he showered, dressed, and prepared for the day. Even skipping breakfast, he still barely made it to Transfiguration in time.

The morning was a blur culminating in a spectacular explosion in Potions caused by Neville Longbottom. Draco was impressed. It was the largest one yet. Fortunately Snape was able to warn the class to duck before any real damage was done. The best part was the loss of 25 points from Gryffindor. At the rate they were going, Slytherin might actually take back the cup this year.

Draco was smirking when he left Potions. The day had started out badly, but things seemed to be looking up. Unfortunately, when he got back to his room he realized he was mistaken. The owl on his bed was recognizable as his father's. The regal creature turned his nose up when Draco entered the room and imperiously held out his leg. The Slytherin prefect sighed in resignation and then pulled off the small scroll. Knowing he had to get it over with, since the owl wouldn't leave until he read the bloody thing, Draco opened the scroll.

_Draco,_

_I am most disappointed to hear that you have not been fulfilling your duties as the leader of Slytherin this year. I have been told Thanos Acheron has moved to take your place. This is unacceptable. As the son of the right hand of the Dark Lord you have responsibilities to lead your fellow students. I expect a change in attitude immediately and a full report on what has been happening in that school. You will tell me everything you can about the new professor and any of the new students. You have one week._

_Great_, thought Draco. _Bloody great. Now my father wants me to write a bleeding report on Professor Spellsinger and the transfer students._ Draco was not amused. His father had no right to expect him to obey his orders when he was locked away by the Ministry. It would serve the bastard right if he turned the owl over to the Aurors. He affixed a steely eye on the creature and glared until the bird left. Let his father come get a response. Draco had better things left to do. Like get to his next class on time!

Draco grabbed his books and ran out the door. Despite all his efforts, however, he was still late to class.

"Mr. Malfoy. So good of you to join us. Please. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I hope we have not disturbed your schedule." It was not often that Professor Spellsinger was sarcastic, but when she was, he thought she matched Snape for snideness.

"No, professor. I apologize." Draco was studiously ignoring the Weasley boy who seemed intent on grinning wide enough to swallow his own head. Briefly he wished it would happen.

"Now class. Today we are going to study the Patronus Charm." A few groans greeted the announcement. "Now, now. It is not so bad. The Patronus, while difficult at first, gets easier as you use it. Harry, you will be staying out of this exercise." There was some muttering at that, but a stern look from the professor silenced it.

"The Patronus is a spell that is almost entirely supported by the will. In all honesty, the wand is the least important part of it. The spell is controlled by the strength of the mind and driven by the emotion behind it. This is why one needs a happy memory to execute the Patronus. It manifests itself in a burst of positive energy. Hence it will drive off creatures like the Dementors."

"Professor? Are there other creatures the Patronus is useful against then?"

Ryselle nodded. "Yes, but they are very uncommon. Tonight you will be reading the chapter from Hieronius' Tretise on the Creatures of the Night. There is a list there and I have annotated the ones known to still exist. Most of them, interestingly enough, reside in the Americas and Asia." Ryselle waved her wand sending the scrolls flying to the students' desks. Draco picked his up and briefly glanced inside. It appeared the professor was thorough as usual. There was quite the list there.

"Now, I want everyone to get into a circle at the rear of the classroom. You will see a large iron box. Make sure you remain at least ten feet from it." She waited several moments for the students to take their places. As usual, things did not go easy. "Mr. Weasley, threatening to hex Mr. Goyle into next week is not going to help you perform this exercise better. Miss Parkinson, that sort of behaviour is unacceptable. 15 points from Slytherin for hexing Miss Granger. I trust you know the countercurse Hermione?" The green-faced Gryffindor nodded. "Good. Harry, you will remain outside the circle. No interference." Her stern look silenced his protest.

The professor moved through the classroom making sure there were no more incidents to mar their learning experience, and then cleared her throat for attention. The rest of the students were gathered at the back of the classroom and stood fearfully back from the large iron box. It looked heavy, engraved with arcane runes and was sealed with a very hefty padlock. The all wondered what was inside.

"Good. My instructions are simple. You will picture in your mind the happiest memory you have. When I give the order, prepare to cast the Patronus and I will open the box. You will succeed or fail this test based on your own strength of will. Understood?"

Ryselle waited for a few moments while the students composed themselves. She failed to notice Draco Malfoy's discomfort. As soon as she had announced they were learning the Patronus today, he knew he was in for a humiliating experience. He was tempted to take her aside and ask her to excuse him from the exercise as she had Potter. She imagined his exclusion had to do with the sheer number of terrible things the Gryffindor had seen. He doubted the professor wanted another fainting episode from her star pupil. It was almost ironic he and Potter had something like that in common. Draco still wracked his brain, trying to think of anything that could be construed as a positive memory. Maybe last year he would have thought watching the Gryffindor faint from seeing a Dementor would have done it, but this year he was a lot less interested in watching his nemesis suffer. Treating others badly, watching how his father treated his so-called friends, not to mention his son, were certainly not the things positive memories were made of. He honestly couldn't think of a blessed thing that would make him feel happy. Draco had just started to raise his hand when Ryselle flicked her wand at the box. "_Effractum_!"

With a thunderous clang the lid of the box flipped open, revealing something none of the students ever expected to see in the classroom – a Dementor. Briefly it occurred to Draco to wonder how Ryselle managed to gain control over one of the evil creatures, but then he became too busy to think as he felt the chill of despair and hopelessness wash over him. Neville Longbottom let out a sob as the evil creature drifted toward him. Harry tensed as the timid Gryffindor shrank back, ready to disregard his teacher's instructions if necessary. Suddenly, Neville got a resolute look on his face, refusing to be intimidated. He held his wand before him, eyes full of determination, and yelled at the top of his lungs "_Expecto Patronum_!" A thin shield of white energy poured out of his wand and interposed itself between him and the Dementor. Neville smiled at his success and was surprised when the shield coalesced into the wispy form of a snarling badger. The Dark creature backed away, avoiding the small animal. The misty defender grew even more solid when Neville felt another surge of joy from his success. He saw Harry smile and give him an encouraging gesture.

The creature shied away from the portly Gryffindor and moved toward one of the Slytherin students. Narrowing her eyes, she refused to be outdone by a Gryffindor. Her Patronus manifested itself as a wisp of smoke in the shape of a mink. Draco thought it oddly appropriate. While the Dementor moved from student to student, Draco continued to wrack his brain for a positive memory to use as the component of his Patronus. The creature came closer and closer, after being shoved away by the students with varying degrees of success. Even Weasley seemed capable of producing a semi-solid Patronus in the shape of a lion.

Then it was his turn.

The dark form of the Dementor drifted toward him, black tendrils floating in the nonexistent breeze. It grew colder, and he felt as if he were back in his father's study trying to explain his failure to beat Potter to the elder Malfoy. Images flashed through his mind of countless lectures and punishments and he felt paralyzed by fear and hopelessness.

_His father stood before him, stern and unyielding. Pointing his wand toward his son, his features took on a sad cast. "I will not tolerate failure, Draco. You have disappointed me. You understand you must be punished. Crucio!"_

Draco swayed, gripping his head as the Dementor loomed closer. Desolation filled him and he suddenly found himself not caring what the creature did to him. Distantly he heard a voice yelling, and felt himself fall. Quick footsteps were followed by someone placing something sweet in his mouth. The pressure on his mind eased, and then there was only blackness.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry stepped forward, deciding this farce had gone on far enough. He wasn't sure what Professor Spellsinger was thinking when she brought that creature here, but he sure as hell wasn't going to allow it to continue terrorizing Malfoy. Couldn't she see he was freaking out? The familiar form of a stag leapt from Harry's wand and interposed itself between the wraith and the Slytherin prefect. It vanished with a shriek. Draco crumpled to the ground as Ryselle rushed over and knelt next to him. She quickly broke off a small piece of chocolate and placed it in the boy's mouth.

"Hermione, go get Professor Snape. Harry, take the rest of the students outside and finish the lesson. You will find the scroll on my desk. Everyone else go with Harry." She looked up. "Now!"

The students left quickly, chattering all the while about what happened. None of them ever expected to see Draco Malfoy pass out from a Dementor. Not when he had spent their third year mocking Harry about it. Hermione went the other direction in search of Professor Snape. She knew he would be in class and didn't relish being the one to interrupt. But she figured it was better her than Harry or Ron. Professor Spellsinger could always give her back the points he took away, but she hoped he would be reasonable.

With a feeling of trepidation, Hermione stopped in front of the Potions classroom. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third-years were inside; studiously intent on whatever potion Snape was having them work on. She carefully turned the doorknob in hopes of disturbing the class as little as possible. Her hopes were dashed as Professor Snape's eagle eyes spied her sneaking in.

"Miss Granger. Twenty points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class. I do hope there is a reason for your actions."

"Uh, yes Professor. May I speak with you for a moment?" Why was she always so timid around him?

He frowned. "I believe after class would be more appropriate Miss Granger. Perhaps you should wait until then."

"Uh, Professor, it's uh, really important." She really needed to work on that. _He senses fear_, she heard Harry's voice tell her.

If anything, Snape's frown grew deeper. "Miss Granger…"

"Professor, it's really important. Professor Spellsinger sent me to get you, now please would you come with me to her classroom?" She wasn't sure who was more shocked at her audacity – her, Snape, or the other students.

"Very well, Miss Granger. You will stay here. I expect you are capable of watching over my class for a short while." She nodded. "Good. I will return. And I expect to see 20 light blue potions awaiting me." In a swirl of robes he was out the door.

Snape was not in the mood to deal with Ryselle's foolishness. Admittedly, he had agreed to be her dueling partner, but pulling him out of class was something that was simply too much. He had a few choice words for the woman when he got to her classroom. Not even pausing so much as to knock, he flung the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom open and swept in the room. He abruptly halted when he noticed the distinct lack of students. His eyes narrowed in anger. The nerve of the woman. He turned to leave when he heard his name being called.

"Severus?" He frowned at the usage of his first name. He looked around and saw her head sticking up from the back of the classroom. It looked like she was on the floor.

He strode over. "Professor, what the bloody hell are you doing on the…Draco? What has happened?"

"He passed out. I brought in a wraith to teach them the Patronus. Apparently he had some major difficulties with it."

"What the bloody hell were you thinking? A wraith? That's rather irresponsible of you, Professor."

She bristled defensively. "All right! I will freely admit I should have thought it out a bit more, but none of the other students had this difficulty, Severus. A wraith is not exactly a major embodiment of evil."

"It may not be a Dementor, but it mimics one quite nicely."

"That was the point. They need to learn to cast the Patronus under duress."

"And I suppose you were going to start flinging spells at them next?"

"It was a thought."

"Oh by Merlin! One would think you would be capable of exercising better judgment, Professor Spellsinger!"

"I apologize! This is how I was trained. I saw no harm in it."

"Well hopefully you have learned from this little fiasco."

"Yes, Severus, I will not bring another wraith in here until I am sure the students can handle it. But what should we do about Draco?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you are his godfather and head of house. I would think you might know what would be best for him. I was honestly thinking of taking him to the infirmary."

"No! That would not be… appropriate. Mr. Malfoy cannot show that kind of weakness in front of his housemates."

"That is what I thought, but I imagine this episode will not look any better."

"Let us minimize the damage, please. I will take him…"

"Unh… what the bloody hell…" Draco's eyes widened as he saw the Potions professor standing nearby. _Bugger_. That was all he needed, his head of house witnessing his moment of ultimate weakness.

"Draco, are you all right?" Professor Spellsinger was hovering nearby, radiating concern.

His grey eyes met hers. "I'm fine, Professor. My apologies. I'm afraid I failed your little test due to my incredible lack of happy memories. Perhaps we could try something else?"

Ryselle looked as if someone had struck her. It never occurred to her Draco would not have a happy memory to use for the Patronus. She felt like a heel. "I am sorry, Draco, I…"

"Apologies are unnecessary, Professor Spellsinger," interrupted Snape. "A Slytherin does not need nor appreciate patronization in any form. Mr. Malfoy, I assume you are feeling better?"

"Uh, yes, Professor."

"Good. Then you will return to your room for the remainder of the day. I suggest you rest and study other methods to deal with Dementors. I would not wish to see another failure."

_Ouch_. "Yes, Professor." Draco got to his feet and left the room, refusing to look behind him. If he had, he would have seen his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor round on the scowling Potions master.

"How dare you say that to him, Severus Snape! He fails because of a life so horrible he cannot bring up a single fond memory and you have the audacity to take him to task for it? How can you do such a thing? To your own godson?"

Severus gazed coldly at the furious witch. _She certainly is beautiful when she's angry_, he thought. "For your information, Professor, failure is not something that is acceptable in Slytherin. For any reason. It was his responsibility to find a way to defeat the wraith. His past is insignificant."

"Insignificant my arse! How dare you say such a thing! You know as well as I do that the Patronus is the best defense against Dementors known to Wizardkind. Telling him to research other methods is simply setting him up for another failure. How can you do that to him?"

"Professor, you seem to be under the delusion that I ordered Mr. Malfoy to research ways to _fight_ the Dementors. As he will someday join sides with his father, I imagine he will find very little need to fight them at all."

It took a moment for his implication to sink in.

"What? You will just stand by and watch while your godson dedicates himself to those hate-mongering murderers? That is low, Severus."

"It is not my choice, Professor Spellsinger! Draco's course was chosen for him from the time he was born. He has embraced that destiny. I have nothing to do with it. All I can do is encourage him to protect himself the best way I know how."

"And that includes telling him to figure out how to control Dementors?"

"If necessary, yes. He will be better off being prepared for the life he has been destined for, than the one you optimistically wish to give him. Your intentions are good but unfortunately misplaced. Good day!"

With a dramatic whirl of his robes, Professor Snape left the room, Ryselle staring stunned after him.

Draco returned to Slytherin in a foul mood, almost praying he would encounter someone he could take his temper out on. It appeared the fates were either being kind today, or cruel depending on one's perspective. Thanos Acheron was waiting for him in the Slytherin common room when he stormed in.

"Ah. The prodigal son returns. Tell me, Malfoy, how are things in dreamland?"

Draco's eyes grew cold and hard. "Bugger off, Acheron. I'm in no mood for your pathetic attempts at wit."

"Perhaps you would be in a better mood if you had not failed so miserably in class today. I was surprised to see you grow faint and pass out. I would have expected the great son of Lucius Malfoy to seize control of the Dementor and send it chasing after Potter."

"Too bad it wasn't a real Dementor, eh Thanos?" The realization came to Draco as soon as he awakened. Professor Spellsinger would never have brought a true Dementor into her classroom. It must have been a wraith. He remembered reading about them one summer when his father had ordered him to study a book on creatures of the Dark.

"Ah, I see you realized that. You do know that makes your failure all the more humiliating. Draco Malfoy. The great Slytherin prefect couldn't even stay on his feet in front of a fake Dementor." He snorted. "Some leader you are."

"And you are so much better, is that it?"

"Sometimes the truth hurts. At least I didn't pass out in front of the Gryffindors."

"Look, Thanos. Just because you have a pretty smile and pretty hair doesn't make you the leader of Slytherin. You have a long way to go before you understand what you're getting into. Besides, no one outside of this house even cares that you exist!"

"Like that matters, Malfoy."

"Oh it matters. You honestly think the Dark Lord is going to concentrate his attention only on the Slytherin alumni? You're a bigger idiot than I thought."

"Watch it, Malfoy. I'll kick your arse if you mess with me."

"I don't have to mess with you. You'll screw up on your own with no help from anyone else."

"I'm warning you, Malfoy."

"What? Are you going to hurt me? Bring it on, death-boy! You couldn't curse your way out of a paper bag."

"Oh, and what about you? You can't even take on a wraith without loosing it. And that doesn't even begin to include your sterling successes with Potter. I heard about the duel you fought with him."

"Ah yes, your last dueling effort was most impressive, wasn't it? I have to admit it had me on the edge of my seat for the whole ten seconds the duel lasted!"

"HA! Impotent fool. I'll show you!"

"_Expelliarmus_!" yelled Draco. Thanos' wand flew out of his hand, and his silver-haired adversary pointed at him. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Seeing his foe helpless, Draco casually strolled over to the dropped wand. Picking it up, he said, "You might want to be more careful with this, Thanos. They're so very fragile." With a quick snap, he broke the wand it two. "If you want, ask Weasley to tell you how to fix it." He dropped it on the boy's chest.

Not even bothering to look back. Draco strode from the room, glaring at his returning housemates as he went by. None of them met his eyes.

Things did not improve for the silver-haired Slytherin during the rest of the week. He faced a great deal of ridicule for passing out in the presence of a wraith. And to his utter mortification, he found out the voice he had heard before losing consciousness was Potter driving away the "Dementor." The last thing he needed was to be saved by his chosen nemesis.

This morning was not going well either. The good part was that Draco finally managed to get Slytherin House off his back about the wraith, and Professor Spellsinger stepped in to chastise the Gryffindors for their behaviour. But that was the least of his problems. For the first time in over five years his potion did not work the way it was supposed to, and even Snape couldn't find a reason to give his star pupil points that morning. Malfoy knew the upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class was probably not going to be any better, and he was far more correct than he had ever imagined.

Draco Malfoy slowly followed the other students out the door. He had just experienced the most humiliating five minutes of his life. Considering the Patronus incident, that was saying a lot. Professor Spellsinger decided that their next quiz was to be a working one. She wanted them to prove their ability to defend against the Dark Arts. They were paired up, and each given a list of curses they were permitted to use. Draco, to his everlasting joy, was Harry Potter's partner. He had a feeling he was in for a long day.

It is not to say that the silver-haired Slytherin performed badly. No, it was more like Harry did extremely well. Even Draco had to admit the boy seemed to have a great deal of natural skill in defending against the Dark Arts. _Makes sense_, he thought, _considering how many times Potter faced the Dark Lord_. He wondered why the professor had put them together. Surely she knew how much they hated each other. _Perhaps that is why,_ he speculated.

His thoughts were interrupted when someone stepped out in front of him. Draco stopped, and then looked at the boy irritably. "Get out of my way, Hadenthor."

The other Slytherin looked appraisingly at Draco. "Or what?"

"Or you'll regret it," he said quietly.

The boy laughed. "I'll believe that when I see it." He took a deep breath, expanding his chest in an effort to look menacing. Draco thought he looked ridiculous. "You can't even defend yourself against a moron like Thanos, Malfoy. What makes you think you'd do any better against me?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Because you're a bigger moron?"

His housemate snarled, and brandished his wand. "_Serpensortia_!" A large snake burst forth from his wand, headed straight for Draco. Before he could respond, he heard a voice down the corridor. "_Mutatio_!" The snake suddenly changed into a long purple scarf and fell to Draco's feet.

"Mr. Hadenthor!" Professor Spellsinger bellowed. "What is the meaning of this?"

Eric Hadenthor had the good grace to look ashamed. "Nothing, Professor. Malfoy and I were just…"

"Chatting? Well, Mr. Hadenthor most chats take place without the usage of wands and curses. Especially in this school. Put your wand away and meet me for Detention this evening. I believe we are going to have a 'chat.'"

Draco tried to hide his smirk.

"You find this amusing, Mr. Malfoy? Perhaps you would like in on the fun."

He shook his head. "No thank you, Professor. I think I've received enough of a beating today from Potter." He smiled slightly. "I appreciate the offer, though."

The professor hesitated, looking at him sternly for a moment, and then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. You may go."

He gave a slight bow and left, smirking at Hadenthor's misfortune. _If only it had been Thanos_, he wished.

Late that evening, a sweaty and disheveled Eric returned to Slytherin. Draco looked up from his book, amusement evident. "Have fun did we?" he inquired.

Eric glared. "No. Being used for target practice is not my idea of fun!"

Draco laughed. "Well, I guess you better not hack her off again."

Eric marched over to Draco, hostility evident. Moving his face mere inches from Draco's, he snarled, "You're not number one around here anymore, Malfoy. Things are changing, and you better face the fact that you've been replaced. By the end of this year, you'll be just another has-been rolled over by the wheels of progress."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really. And what would your reason be for this? Thanos Acheron is dating Pansy Parkinson? Come on, Eric. She'd date you if she thought you would enhance her reputation. She's the easiest girl in school, and bagging her is like bagging a Flobber worm – wet, annoying, and easy.

Or is it Thanos' incredible ability in the Dark Arts? HA! He wouldn't know the Dark Arts if they bit him in the arse. You actually think the Dark Lord is going to care about his pretty hair and face? Thanos Acheron is just another mindless lackey, destined to be Auror-fodder.

Or maybe it's his incredible popularity. I must admit, he is very well liked for someone so universally hated. Even Snape thinks he's an annoying git. He probably likes Potter better.

Then we can talk about his Quidditch skills…"

"Enough! I get the point. You might think on this, Draco. He may be all those things, but he also has the devotion of every girl and boy in Slytherin. And you are nothing."

Draco frowned. "Big loss. The only reason things have changed is because I don't care, Eric! I have better things to do with my time than babysit a bunch of mindless prats. I'm sick of it. If graduation came tomorrow, it wouldn't be too soon. I have better things to do with my time."

"Maybe, but I'm sure your father will be unhappy with the situation."

"So? He can bloody well kiss my arse!"

Eric looked shocked.

"The only thing my father cares about, Eric, is my ability to serve the Dark Lord. If he bitches too much about my reputation, then I'll do something. But until that time, leave me alone!" Draco abruptly got up from his chair and grabbed his book. Eric Hadenthor looked on in shock as Draco Malfoy left the Slytherin greatroom.

"I'll be damned."

The next afternoon, Draco Malfoy sat in the library, studying his latest Potions assignment. He knew it would not do to alienate Professor Snape if he wanted to continue to have the freedoms the man had always given him. Especially in light of yesterday morning's Potions disaster. His potion hadn't exploded, but the sickly orange sludge he produced did not make his head of house very pleased with him. He definitely did not need to alienate Snape. Motion attracted his attention as someone approached his table. He looked up slowly, a glare on his face as Eric Hadenthor and Nathan Bridger dropped down into the seats next to him. He had chosen this area of the library for its privacy knowing no one would dare bother him.

"What do you want," he demanded.

Eric grinned. "Just a bit of a chat, Draco."

Draco frowned at the other boy, "I'm not in the mood to chat, Eric."

"Well, I thought I'd just drop by and give you a bit of friendly advice."

"You? Give me advice? Don't be ridiculous."

Eric looked the Slytherin prefect up and down. "Draco, I must tell you that I'm concerned."

Draco's silvery eyes focused on his unwelcome guest. "Oh?"

"Yes. It seems a lot of people in Slytherin have lost their faith in you as the leader of our house. Even Professor Snape has been heard to doubt you. And after today's match with Gryffindor…"

"Did it ever occur to you that Potter played particularly well for a change and our team did not?"

Eric blinked in surprise. "I suggest you not allow anyone else to hear you say that, Draco. You don't want them to think Harry Potter is better than you, do you?"

"I don't bloody well care."

Eric smiled condescendingly, which only served to anger Malfoy more. "I'm sure you don't. But do your really want that peacock Acheron taking your place?"

"Like he could."

The dark-haired Slytherin shook his head. "He's already well on his way, Draco. First he took away your girlfriend…"

"Losing Pansy was no big loss."

"Now he's taking away your following…"

"Only spineless sheep follow that bleeding git."

Hadenthor smirked. "And now he's challenging your capability to lead us."

"As if he could do better."

"Perhaps not, but there are those who are convinced he should be given the chance."

Draco snorted. "Let him. I don't care. He'll blast himself in the foot without any help from me."

Eric leaned forward. "Look, Draco, there are those of us that are still loyal to you, but we can't keep blindly following someone who refuses to lead. You need to do something to prove that you still have what it takes to lead us."

"Like what?"

"Well, you need to replace your girlfriend, beat Thanos, and win back those following him. But it's not going to be easy. As it is, no girl in Slytherin is going to give you the time of day."

"Really? You are extremely mistaken, Eric. I can have any girl in this school I want."

Eric grinned. "You think? How about a little wager?"

"What?"

Nathan interrupted, "Eric, maybe we should not do this…"

"Do what?"

Cutting Nathan a glare, Eric responded. "Make a wager about your ability to win over any girl in the school."

Draco blinked. "You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "No I'm not. You see, I think this would be the perfect way for you to prove that you still have it. You convince any girl in the school, of my choosing let's say, to go to the Spring Ball with you and I'll help you get back control of Slytherin AND humiliate Thanos."

"And if I don't?"

"Are you saying you can't?"

Draco gave him a flat stare. "I will not make a wager on something if I don't know the conditions."

Eric smiled, nodding. "Right. Okay, if you fail, you have to go to Thanos and swear your loyalty to him. You have to do everything in your power to get him in with the Dark Lord, and you have to acknowledge he is the greatest Slytherin to ever live."

"Out of the question. Salazar Slytherin was the greatest."

"Okay, besides him."

"Or the Dark Lord."

"Okay, how about of the current house?"

Draco thought about it. _I can do this_, he thought. _ It would be a lot more pleasant than having to deal with Pansy and that git Thanos._

He nodded. "Okay, I can deal with those terms with one exception."

"Oh, what is it now?"

"No Mudbloods. The girl you choose must be a pureblood."

Eric laughed. "Fine. I wouldn't want you to sully yourself. Let's go hunting."

The two boys shook on it and stood up, leaving Nathan looking like he had just committed a mortal sin.

The three boys left the library and began looking around for likely candidates. It was obvious Eric Hadenthor took the idea of his bet with Draco very seriously. He strolled around the school with his fellow Slytherins, Draco and Nathan, in search of the perfect girl. Draco pointed out several possibilities, all of which Eric shot down for one reason or another. They had pursued the majority of the student body when he came across his candidate. Eric smirked. There would be no way Draco would ever be able to win the affections of this girl, and even if he did, it would destroy his reputation. _Perfect_, he thought.

Draco and Eric rounded the corner to see Ginny Weasley trip on the steps and fall, her books flying everywhere. A few of the students snickered, but stopped when she cut them a glare.

"Gentlemen, I believe we have our winner," said Eric.

Draco's eyes widened in shock. "No, Eric. Anyone but her. Hell, I'll win Pansy back from that bloody git first. But not her."

"Oh, what's the matter, Draco? Don't think you can do it?"

Draco grabbed the other boy and pushed him against the wall. "You don't seem to understand, Hadenthor. She's a Weasley. My father would disown me if he found out I dated a Weasley."

"I thought you said you didn't care what your father thought, Draco."

"I…" Draco hesitated. He had been looking for the perfect way to rebel against his family for the past several months. _Dating a Weasley would do it_, he thought. He smirked at the thought of his father's reaction. _Besides, it will be a lot cheaper to pay her off than someone else_. With a final shove, he let Eric go. "Fine. But no interference, Eric. Or I swear you will regret it." His eyes narrowed dangerously, boring into the other boy.

Eric nodded. He had no desire to be on Draco's bad side. Unlike Thanos, he still feared the Slytherin prefect. "Right. No problem. No interference. But she has to be your date to the Spring Ball. Your only date. Right up until the end."

"Fine."

Draco turned, and decided to try and go help the girl. _They always like that,_ he thought. Rounding the corner he was greeted by the unpleasant spectacle of Harry Potter helping the Weasley girl pick up her books. As he watched, she smiled gratefully at him and continued on her way. Draco frowned. _This is going to be harder than I thought._

Draco waited until Potter was out of sight before running after the Weasley girl. _What is her name,_ he thought searching his memory. _Gen…Gin..Ginny! That's it. Right. Ginny Weasley._ He sped up until he caught up with her.

"Hey, Ginny!"

She whirled, books flying everywhere again. In a flash her wand was in her hand. Despite himself, Draco was impressed.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

He held up his hands in surrender, slowly approaching her. "Uh, I thought we might chat about…Potions! Yeah, the latest Potions assignment."

Her face clearly indicated that she didn't believe him. "Get lost, Malfoy."

He smirked. "Make me. I don't see any of your big brothers or your boyfriend Potter around. I can do what I want."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't fuck with me, Malfoy. I'm not as forgiving as my brothers. Or Harry." Her voice lowered menacingly, "Leave. Me. Alone."

His smirk grew wider. He was surprised at the profanity. The girl had spirit, he had to give her that. Most people in the school would be cowering in their boots at this point. "You still haven't given me any motivation to leave, Ginny," he said, moving closer.

"_Expulsum_!" she yelled, pointing her wand at him. Draco was completely unprepared for the attack and went flying.

"You'll pay for that, Weasley!" he yelled, pulling out his wand.

"Let's go, Ferret. I've been training for months with Harry to fight little Death Eater gits like you!"

His eyes grew cold as he picked himself up off the ground. "I'm not a Death Eater," he said in an emotionless voice.

"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Weasley! What is the meaning of this?"

Professor McGonagall strode quickly down the hallway to stand between the two.

"What is it with you students this year? I swear. Dueling in the hallways. 20 points from both your houses! Now, what happened here?" She turned to Ginny.

"He chased me down and refused to leave me alone when I told him to get lost."

McGonagall looked at Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy?"

He nodded, smirking sardonically. "Yes, Professor. That's exactly it. I was stalking Weasley here when she defended herself. It's all my fault." His grey eyes never left Ginny.

Ginny spoke up, "Prof…"

"I don't care whose fault it is, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley, the fact of the matter is that the both of you are in trouble for dueling. Detention for both of you. Tonight in my office at seven o'clock. Do not be late." She turned and quickly walked off, leaving the two students in her wake.

Ginny cut Draco an angry glare. "Thanks a lot, Ferret." She knelt to pick up her books.

Draco sauntered over, and knelt next to her, picking up some papers.

"Malfoy!"

Draco closed his eyes in annoyance. Potter. He turned to glare at the approaching Gryffindor.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Leave Ginny alone."

Draco sighed. This was going to be a LOT harder than he thought. He shoved the papers at Ginny. "Fine." He stood up and left, not looking back.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" He heard Harry ask Ginny.

"I don't know, but I got detention out of it."

Draco stormed into the Slytherin common room, wryly observing that it was getting to be a habit. He wasn't hugely concerned, however. Acheron and Hadenthor were the only members of his house to show any signs of a backbone and neither of them was around to annoy him. He was almost sorry about that. He could definitely take some aggression out on the two bloody gits. Avoiding the urge to destroy something, he threw himself into a chair and began to seethe. He soon had the room all to himself as the few who were there left quickly after one look at his face. He looked livid. No one wanted to mess with Draco when he was mad.

_How the bloody hell did I get myself into this_, he demanded silently. Weasley. _I have to win over Weasley. Bloody great. It will royally torque off my father, but no one in Slytherin will ever respect me again. I'm going to kill Eric Hadenthor._

The Slytherin prefect was well aware of why Eric chose Ginny Weasley. He almost had to admire the audacity of the boy. Not too many people would have the rocks to suggest that. For the first time since it happened, Draco regretted the angry outburst that resulted in the bet between him and Hadenthor. He rarely lost his temper, but after a long, unpleasant day with a Quidditch loss to Ravenclaw, the letter from his father, being humiliated in Defense Against the Dark Arts, again, and having to deal with Thanos and Eric, his control broke.

_Bloody great. I'm going to be the laughing stock of Slytherin. Right before the Dark Lord kills me_. He had wanted to rebel against his family, but thinking back on it, he realized choosing to date Ginny Weasley was probably one of the worst things he could have done. Sure he liked the idea of hacking off his father, but he wasn't too fond of the idea of what would happen as a result of it. _He'll probably have her killed_, he mused, frowning at the thought. _I may not like the Weasleys, but I never wanted them dead. _ He needed to find a way to convince his father everything he was doing was for the benefit of Voldemort. _That's it, _he thought,_ I can tell him I'm using her to get to Potter._ He smirked evilly, frightening a first year out of entering the room. _He'll love that_. Draco stood up and went to his room to write his father.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, the bet thing is token homage to "She's All That". There's a long story behind my decision to use it in this story, but the end result is hopefully enjoyable. Thanks for reading. 


	7. Owner of a Lonely Heart

Luna - I'm glad you like the She's All That reference. The first time I saw that movie I couldn't help but think of Draco Malfoy. Hopefully I am handling it well.

Again I will emphasize that there is nothing from HBP in this story.

Thanks for reading and thanks to Vaughn for betaing (is that a word?).

* * *

Ginny Weasley stormed into the Gryffindor common room, sweeping past her brother, who was beating Seamus at chess, right up to her room. She slammed the door, and locked it with a spell. _I'm not in the mood to deal with Ron's crap right now_, she thought angrily. _That bloody ferret-faced git! How dare he get me detention? And on a practice night too._ Ginny had just come from explaining to Warren Bishop that she had gotten detention tonight for dueling with Malfoy. The new Quidditch captain was upset, of course, and asked her if there was anyway to postpone it. Ginny doubted it. Warren decided to try, however. He was in McGonagall's office right now pleading for an exception. _What a way to impress the new captain_, she thought. _He's almost as hard-core as Angelina._ The match with Slytherin was not too far away and the team needed the practice.

There was no guarantee that Harry would be able to pull off another miracle with the Snitch. _Malfoy's gotten better since last year_, she thought. _He's actually giving Harry a run for his money now_. Ginny thought it was probably a good thing. Harry needed to be knocked down a peg. He had talked with her last year about his fears of becoming like his father, and she had to admit that he was headed in the general direction. Sirius' death was a major blow to his ego and brought home the fact that he needed to change. Ginny hated the fact that he had to learn like that, however. _ I was just hoping Malfoy would beat him to the Snitch for once,_ she thought. Since then, Harry had pushed himself to become as good as everyone expected him to be. He got permission to get a practice Snitch and was outside every day trying to catch it. He had even started getting Ron to hit bludgers at him to make it more difficult. He was driving himself to learn everything he could about the Dark Arts, having signed up for private lessons with Professor Spellsinger, in addition to running the dueling group. Hermione said she had never seen him study with such fervor before and even Snape had to admit the Gryffindor was doing better.

Ginny shared Hermione's concern that he was pushing himself too hard. She had expressed to the younger girl that she felt Harry was keeping something from them all. Perhaps something to explain his sudden need to be the best. She speculated it might be the idea that he was stung by not being a prefect, but Ginny did not think that was it at all. Harry had gotten far more serious and focused, almost as if he was preparing to fight for his life. _Maybe he is_, she thought. _Maybe it finally hit that the day will come when he has to face off with Voldemort for the last time. _She felt a chill at the thought. Her crush on Harry had ended years ago, but she still cared for him like a brother. She had no desire to see him die. Ginny sighed.

What the bloody hell happened today?

Ginny was still trying to figure that out. Malfoy wanted to talk potions with her? She found that very hard to believe. He was up to something, she knew it. She resolved to stay as far away from the Slytherin prefect as possible. After detention tonight, she thought, anger rising. A knock on her door interrupted her musing.

"Go away, Ron!" she yelled.

"It's not Ron, Ginny, it's me," Hermione called from outside. Ginny smiled, and opened the door to the brown-haired girl. "You better not be here for Ron."

Hermione shook her head. "He just mentioned that you seemed 'in a snit' about something."

Ginny laughed, letting her friend in.

"So what's this I hear about Malfoy and you getting detention together?"

"Harry's got a big mouth," Ginny observed.

Hermione smiled. "He's just concerned, Ginny. We figured it would be better for me to talk with you about it than him or Ron. Especially Ron."

Ginny chuckled. "That's for damn sure."

"Ginny!"

"What?"

"Language?"

"Oh bother that, Hermione. What am I going to do tonight? I have detention with Malfoy tonight and am going to miss practice because of it."

"So what happened?"

Ginny explained to the older girl what happened in the hallway, leaving out no details. She was curious about what Hermione thought of the whole situation.

"That's really odd. It actually sounds as if Malfoy actually wanted to talk with you."

"Yeah, right. A Malfoy coming down from his ivory tower to speak to a lowly Weasley. I don't think so, Hermione. He's up to something."

"Probably. But hexing him without provocation was probably not the wisest thing to have done."

Ginny grimaced. "I know, but he just hacked me off. He kept talking about how no one was around and he could do anything he wanted to me."

Hermione frowned. "I see. I don't know. I'd say just stay away from the little prat. He's not worth another detention."

The redhead nodded. "Definitely not. Oh, crap! I need to get going!"

"Tell me how it goes," called Hermione.

Draco Malfoy was waiting when Ginny arrived at Professor Spellsinger's classroom for detention. There had been a note on McGonagall's door directing them to report to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The red-haired Gryffindor sat as far away from him as possible and studiously ignored him. Draco thought she looked cute when she was angry. He started in surprise. _Where did that come from,_ he wondered. Draco had never had problems with women, but his parents' arrangement with the Parkinsons precluded any other possibilities for him. The only time he had been with another girl was when he and Pansy had broken up for whatever reason.

He privately had to admit that Ginny Weasley had turned out to be quite stunning. Her red hair was rich and full, having a slight wave to it for character. She had twinkling brown eyes that implied she possessed a similar penchant for mischief as her older brothers. There was a light dusting of freckles over her lightly tanned skin and Quidditch had developed her figure to a very athletic one. He remembered how she had looked during the summer. She had curves in all the right places and was well proportioned. Pansy was a bit heavy on top for Draco's taste, he had to admit, but she was very skilled in bed. He idly speculated that Ginny would probably be a wildcat. _Whoa! What am I thinking_, he wondered, slapping himself mentally. _ I'm just going to get to know her well enough to pay her to go to the Spring Ball with me!_

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Spellsinger stood in front of him, looking slightly irritated. "Would you care to join us or have I come at a bad time?"

"Uh, no, Professor!" he scrambled out of his chair. "Sorry," he muttered.

She nodded. "Now, as I was explaining to Miss Weasley, tonight we are going to take a stroll in the Forbidden Forest to eliminate a nest of brundles. It should not prove hugely difficult if you follow my instructions, and if things go well," she glanced at Ginny, "you may be out of here early enough for any other plans you may have. Now get your wands and come with me."

Draco swallowed uncomfortably as he remembered his last stroll through the Forest. He was not proud of his cowardice. Taking his courage in hand, he followed Ginny and the professor.

Right before he reached the door Ginny turned to him and smirked. "Don't worry, Malfoy. I'll protect you." She quickly escaped before he could do or say anything.

Bugger. Obviously Potter had not kept their experiences to himself.

Albus Dumbledore was waiting in the hallway when he exited the room. "Ah, Ryselle, I see you have brought two helpers. Are you sure you wish to do this, my dear?"

She nodded. "They will not harm a Gypsy, Headmaster. And I believe I can handle them if they get too rowdy."

Draco wondered who "they" was.

"Good." He handed her a small cage. "Here is the cage you requested. I find myself curious as to what you intend on doing with the brundles once you've capture them."

Ryselle smiled at the Headmaster. "I am going to let Hagrid use them for his lessons tomorrow, and then return them to where they belong."

"Very good, then. Luck to all of you. Mr. Malfoy. Miss Weasley. I anticipate tales of your glowing success." With a sharp nod, the headmaster headed back toward his office.

Ginny, Draco, and their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor exited the castle headed to the Forbidden Forest. _There's a reason it's forbidden,_ thought Draco. As they walked, she explained what they were to do.

"Do not concern yourself with capturing them. That will be my job. All you need do is drive them toward me and the cage. They hate magic, so use spells to do it. Do not, however, try to stun them. It will only drive them berserk and then capturing them will become that much harder. Once one goes berserk, the others soon follow. Understand?"

"Yes Professor."

"Good. Now both of you know your lessons, so I have faith that you are eminently capable of handling this task."

"Professor?"

"Yes Ginny?"

"Would the Patronus count as a spell irritating enough to drive them to you?"

She laughed. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Yes, Ginny, that is the perfect spell. It has a wide range, can be directed, and is something you can maintain for a sufficient amount of time. That would be perfect. There are several others with the same qualities, Draco, if you would like to try your knowledge."

Draco suddenly drew a blank. The only thing he could think of was his spectacular failure to cast the Patronus charm. He knew the reason was his incredible lack of happy memories, but that didn't excuse him from failure. He wracked his mind for alternatives.

"The Protego Charm?"

"If you can maintain it, yes. Five points to Slytherin. Think on it some more, Draco. But try to decide before we get there."

Draco frowned; annoyed that he couldn't come up with a better answer. _This is not going to be easy,_ he realized. _ If what the professor says is true, then there is no other way I can drive the brundles to her. This promises to be very embarrassing. Ginny will hate me if she misses practice because of me. Then I'll never win the bet._

Ginny wondered why Draco seemed so pensive about this task. The Patronus Charm was not terribly hard, and if they worked together they'd be done in short order. Then she remembered the Defense Against the Dark Arts class last week. _He must really not be able to cast it_, she realized. _ I guess he doesn't have a memory happy enough._ She couldn't imagine what that would be like. She suddenly felt sorry for him.

The professor held up her hand at the edge of the forest. "Wait here," she said. The Gypsy quietly walked into the woods, stopping just inside the limit of their vision. Ginny almost panicked. She remembered Harry telling her what the Centaurs did to adults. High Inquisitor Umbridge was never the same after her brief sojourn into the forest. Ginny hoped the professor knew what she was doing. A few moments later, Ryselle gave a musical whistle. There was a short pause, and then a deeper whistle came from farther in. She thought she could hear the sound of hooves approaching the edge of the forest. The professor waited there patiently for the Centaurs to arrive. She was suddenly surrounded as they leaped out of the forest. Ginny grabbed Draco's arm to stop him from heading in.

"She knows what she's doing, Draco," she whispered fiercely.

"How do you know?"

"We have to trust her. She told us to stay here, and that's what we're going to do."

Draco glared at her, but she ignored him, preferring instead to watch what was going on in front of them.

"You have entered our forest unwelcome, human. The penalty for that is known," stated an angry, dark haired Centaur.

Ryselle held up her arms in entreaty. "I am Ryselle Spellsinger of the Clan Valinov. I come in peace to request your permission to enter the forest."

The centaur looked at her curiously. "You may have the accent of the Free Humans, but that is no proof of your kinship."

"Then perhaps this will help." Ryselle gazed at the centaur and raised her voice in song. The melody was exotic, unlike anything Ginny had ever heard. She felt the magic in it, but somehow knew it wasn't a spell. A few moments later, she realized the professor was singing her lineage. She quickly glanced at Draco to see him regarding their teacher in surprise and awe. She finished her song, and quietly stood before the centaurs awaiting their judgment.

The leader abruptly nodded. "Very well. You have named yourself of the Free Humans, friend to the Centaurs. You may pass. On what task do you come?"

"I seek to remove the brundles and send them back to their home," she replied.

"You have brought help, I see. They are almost grown out of the protection of youth, Ryselle."

"But not yet, Honorable Herdleader. I require their aid to capture the brundles without harm."

He nodded. "They may pass. But only you have the freedom of this forest, Ryselle, Singer of Spells."

She gave a graceful bow. "I understand, Herdleader. I am grateful for your tolerance."

"Call them forth that we may scent them."

She nodded. "Draco! Ginny! Come over here. They will not harm you."

"Is she crazy?" demanded Draco.

"No," said Ginny, grabbing his hand, "we don't want to be rude do we?" She dragged him into the forest after her. An odd sensation filled Draco at her touch.

They reached the circle of Centaurs. Draco was intimidated by their size. However, he got the idea any display of weakness would not be appreciated, so he held himself proudly. _A Malfoy does not show fear,_ he told himself. To his disgust, Ginny seemed delighted to be there.

The leader ordered his people to get their scents so they would know they have safe passage for the night. "But you must be gone by dawn, friends of our ally."

Ginny and Draco nodded, giving him a slight bow.

The centaur looked at Ryselle. "The healer and her guardian may pass, Lady of Magic." He made a motion, and the centaurs were gone within moments, leaving a stunned group of humans behind.

Ryselle took command of herself first. "Alright, we have limited time. We can discuss things later. Ginny? Draco?"

The two students looked at her. She motioned for them to follow.

"Professor?" Ginny was the first to speak.

"Yes, Ginny."

"Wha…what did the centaurs mean by what they said?"

"I am not sure, Ginny. The centaurs, as I am sure you will remember from last year, have incredible powers of divining the future. We Gypsies know nothing compared to them. I think it is something we will have to explore further. Later."

"Yes Professor."

The continued on a few more minutes before Draco could no longer contain his question.

"Professor?"

"Yes Draco?"

"Uh, why do the centaurs refer to you as their ally?"

She smiled. "That is a long story, Draco. The short of it is that during the second Coming of Darkness, about five hundred years ago, the centaurs were hunted almost to extinction because of their ability to see the future. They alone knew of the way to banish the Evil One for all time, and that made them the greatest threat to his power. The Gypsies banded together to protect the last remaining centaurs, almost being destroyed in the process. It was a centaur stallion and a woman of the clans that ultimately defeated the Evil One and banished him forever. They were united by a bond deeper than love, and their passion became the thing of legends. Because of it, the centaurs consider Gypsies distant family. It was through their love that they were able to cast the spell banishing the Evil One."

"The Profuctus Ritual!"

"Yes, Ginny. That…" Ryselle halted, a stunned look in her eyes. "That would be correct," she muttered. Suddenly it struck her that the means to defeat Voldemort might not be as distant as she thought. She shook her head. "I am so bloody dense."

"Professor?"

Ryselle looked at Ginny, her eyes unreadable. "Never mind, Ginny. Yes, that would be the correct ritual." She continued on. "We should be reaching the nest soon. Prepare yourselves."

While they had walked, Draco had been wracking his brain trying to think of a good spell to use to herd the brundles without hurting them. Or driving them berserk. Ryselle motioned for them to stop.

"Okay, Draco, you go over by that tree and wait for my signal. Ginny, you wait over there. I shall go wake them up."

Ryselle pulled out her wand and stepped around the clearing. Draco thought he could see some slight movements coming from inside the circle of trees. The professor had described brundles as small rat-like creatures with glowing eyes and little black wings. They had small, clawed hands and were fond of shiny objects. She told them they were not very brave, and were afraid of magic. The reason they were dangerous was because a nest of brundles could grow beyond the resources of the local area rather quickly. Too many brundles killed the plant life and affected the balance of nature. They usually nested in colder climates and their population was controlled by natural predators and the winter frost. Sometimes, however, they were accidentally transported to a warmer place. It didn't become a problem unless there were no predators. Like in the Forbidden Forest. Professor Spellsinger theorized they had been brought here accidentally.

Draco focused on the task at hand, and prepared to cast his spell. Idly he wished he could cast a Patronus. It would probably be a lot easier. But he couldn't think of anything that would inspire him. A brief feeling of sadness filled him. He pushed it aside. _Malfoys do not feel sorry for themselves_, he thought.

A cascade of red sparks lit up the clearing. Draco and Ginny suddenly saw dozens of small creatures moving frantically in the glade. Both of them raised their wands.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

"_Protego_!"

The wispy form of a fox flew out of Ginny's wand, driving the brundles back. At the same time, a golden shield blocked off the other side of the clearing, preventing the others from escaping. The two students could see the professor across the clearing holding a large cage. Behind her was a silvery web of magic.

"Now move forward," commanded Ryselle.

Draco and Ginny pushed forward, herding them into the cage. In less than five minutes, the brundles filled the cage and Ryselle signaled for the students to stop moving forward. She cast another series of sparks in the sky, driving the caged creatures crazy but none others appeared to move outside. Ryselle snapped the cage shut and signaled Ginny and Draco to put down their wands.

The magic inside the clearing died, and Ryselle stood there holding a cage full of brundles.

"Very good." Ryselle complemented them. "Ten points to each your houses. Let us get out of here."

They quickly left the forest, to Draco's incredible relief. Ryselle released them from detention once they were out of the forest, but first she made sure they remembered nothing about what the centaurs had said about Ginny's healing abilities. She wasn't ready to deal with the questions resulting from the casual comments. She made a mental note to speak with the young Gryffindor later, and to keep an eye on the young Mr. Malfoy.

Ginny gleefully ran off to practice and Draco went back to his room. The professor headed to Hagrid's shack with the cage in tow. Draco had a feeling tomorrow's Care of Magical Creatures lesson was going to be very interesting. He hoped the half-giant didn't release the brundles back into the forest.

When Draco back to his room, he shut his door and kicked back so he could think. After this evening, he had come to the realization that winning the bet was not going to be as easy as he thought. He got the feeling Ginny would gladly turn him down just to see him suffer no matter how much money he offered. She wasn't like the rest of her family. Fred and George had been so busy being the resident pranksters that they hadn't really had time for anything else. Ron spent all his time polishing his Prefect badge and trying not to screw up. Percy had been extremely uptight and never did anything to upset the teachers. Bill and Charlie seemed to have been almost normal, but Ginny, she was an enigma. She was smart, yet played pranks with the best of them. The teachers liked her, but she didn't spend all her time sucking up to them. And she certainly had a darker temper. He guessed it was probably due to the fact she was the only girl. She had to have grown up with a considerable strength of will to deal with all those brothers. Not to mention being around the great Harry Potter. He was impressed she stood on her own. And she obviously had it out for him.

Draco smirked at the thought. She was truly beautiful when she was angry. _Stop that_, he admonished himself, _this is only about the bet_. He pulled out a pad of paper and began running through various scenarios in his mind. He began by making a list of his goals. He needed to figure out how to get her to:

1.Talk with him (without swearing)

2.Care enough to want to help him

3.Stop Harry and Ron from beating the crap out of him

4.Actually go to the Spring Ball with him.

He figured the last would be the hardest. Except maybe persuading Harry and Ron not to try to beat him up. He had no real fear of the Gryffindor prefect, but he knew Harry could kick his arse. After what happened today, he had no doubt in his mind that Harry would be looking out for the youngest Weasley. He wondered what their relationship was. To him, it seemed Harry had more of an interest in Granger, but he was very protective of Ginny at the same time. _Somehow I doubt I can ask him_, he thought sardonically. Several more scenarios wandered through his mind before he was suddenly inspired. _That's it_, he thought. _The perfect thing._ With a wide smirk, the silver-haired prefect settled down to begin his plan.

The first thing was to set the scene so that it would get her attention and peak her interest. He rummaged through the neatly stacked papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for. It was a sheaf of fine grey vellum, embossed with the Pendragon crest. His mother gave it to him last Christmas as a hint for him to get better with his correspondence. She kept trying to encourage him to write her with stories of his time at school. He snorted derisively. If he had time to do that, then his letters would be rather boring indeed. He originally intended to use the vellum for letters to Pansy – he figured he should make some attempt to be romantic since they were to be married in less than two years. But she destroyed that plan with her defection to Thanos Acheron.

Draco frowned, his eyes turning cold as the deepest winter. He still didn't understand how she could bring herself to cozy up to the bloody prat. Even Hadenthor would have been a better choice. At least he had half and brain and was able to think independently. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn't too bothered by her leaving him. He had honestly been considering breaking things off with her as part of his new image. Unfortunately, it appeared Thanos Acheron beat him to the punch by stealing her away. It was just one more reason for him to do everything in his power to cut the ground out from under the arrogant bastard.

Which led him back to the bet. It was going to take a great deal of time and effort on his part to win over the Weasley girl. She was a proud one, and very strong willed. He was not going to be able to handle her like Pansy. However, he had an idea. Some time ago, Pansy had been babbling at him about something involving romance and all the garbage that went with it. Draco was always amazed at Pansy's capacity for self-delusion. She always tried to imply there was a greater meaning behind their relationship and imminent nuptials. Foolish girl. Everyone knew the only reason Draco was supposed to marry her was because their parents wanted to join the two families' resources. But Pansy was convinced they were destined to be together – a delusion fed by all those stupid romance novels she read. She insisted on telling him about the one she was reading at the time, which was essentially a thinly veiled hint for him to take inspiration from the book and behave in a romantic manner toward his future wife. She informed him that women always responded well to romance, and if he wanted to make things easier for them in the future, then he would learn how to romance her and how to sweep her off her feet.

Letters, she said, romantic love letters were the perfect way to win a woman's heart. It was an inherent flaw in the species. All women were vulnerable to the lure of a man who was able to write a convincingly romantic love letter. He tried his hand at it – once, not with Pansy – and it worked like a charm. The girl was willing to do anything for him by the time he was through.

Now it was time to see if Ginny Weasley had the same weakness.

With a flourish, he picked up his quill and began to write.

The next day, breakfast was a somber affair. After three months of almost total silence, Voldemort and his Death Eaters made the news again with the deaths of a highly placed member of the Wizengamot and her family. Ginny Weasley headed down to breakfast, unaware of the events. She was simply relieved Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Her instincts told her last night was not going to be the last time she saw him, and while she was curious as to what he wanted, she knew it was bound to be bad. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were already in the Great Hall. Ron looked up as she came in, curiosity evident on his face while Harry and Hermione read the paper.

She supposed her brother found out about the detention.

"Well?"

Leave it to Ron to be impatient. "Well what?"

"Well how did your detention with Malfoy go? Did you get to hex him or anything?"

Hermione looked up from reading and glared at the Gryffindor prefect in exasperation. "Ronald Weasley! It was detention, not dueling club! Of course she didn't get to hex him."

"That's not…"

"What are you reading, Hermione?"

Ron snorted. "Does it matter?"

Hermione's glare intensified before she turned her gaze to the younger Weasley. "You might want to read this."

Ginny took the paper.

_**Terror Strikes East Hampshire**_

_Late last night in the small town of East Hampshire, terrible deeds were afoot as the townspeople slept unawares. It was only when the dreaded Dark Mark rose high in the night sky that the realization that war had finally made it to their humble settlement struck the peaceful residents._

_Victoria Halreth, 32, honored member of the British Wizengamot and respected representative of the Ministry of Magic, was found dead with her husband and two children upon investigation of the disturbance. Mrs. Halreth was notable for her outspoken opposition for the former Minister Fudge and his policies, as well as an advocate of Albus Dumbledore. She was one of the few members of the Wizengamot to oppose his removal from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry last year, and vehemently supported the idea that Lucius Malfoy, now a confirmed Death Eater, was a tool of He Who Must Not be Named._

_Norman Halreth, 34; Matthew, 9; and Stacey, 5; were victims of the Killing Curse, and had apparently been bound and silenced while the Death Eaters tortured Mrs. Halreth to death. It is unknown at this time the purpose of these killings, but officials speculate it is meant to serve as a warning to those opposing the Dark Lord and his cause._

_A warning was found at the scene, written in the blood of the Dark Lord's victims._

Ginny glanced over to Harry, wondering how it was affecting him. His face was white as a sheet, and he was staring at the article in what appeared to be stunned disbelief. Bugger. He really didn't need this right now. Not with Ron being a prat about him and Hermione. Harry shook himself and looked up at the red-haired girl as if only now noticing her arrival.

"So how did it go, Ginny?" Harry's voice was unusually soft and unsure.

She shrugged. "It was alright. We cleared some brundles out of the forest. It wasn't too hard, and I did manage to get back in time for practice!"

"And you should have seen Warren's face too. I swear he gets more and more like Oliver every day."

"No kidding." Ginny glanced over at Ron and Hermione. "What's up with them?"

"Ron's been sniping at Hermione for not telling him about your detention with Malfoy. That of course let to another argument, and now it's just getting to ridiculous levels." Harry's eyes grew pained. "You know how it's been."

"Harry…"

He stood up abruptly, the move distracting Ron and Hermione from their argument. "Uh, I forgot something in my room. I'll see you in Potions." He dashed off before any of them could reply.

"What's his problem?"

Ginny felt her temper threatening to explode. "Shut it, Ron. Stop being such a prat." Following Harry's lead she left quickly, unaware that she was being watched by a pair of curious, grey eyes.

Harry ran to the Astronomy Tower, intent on doing some serious thinking. This morning's article simply served to bring home the fact that anyone near him was in great danger. Especially the woman he loved.

The Tower was deserted when he arrived, and Harry settled himself near the window overlooking the Forbidden Forest. It was the start of what promised to be a beautiful day. The sky was clear except for the morning veil of long cloudy wisps shining pink in the early sun. He shivered slightly from the pre-dawn chill and quickly cast a Warming Charm on himself to stay comfortable. He smirked slightly at the thought of how proud Hermione would be for remembering.

His face took on a serious cast as he thought of his girlfriend. He glared at the crumpled paper in his hand, willing the article to go away and things to return to what they had been. What they should be. His eyes fell to the last line of the article.

"All that you love…" whispered Harry, horrified.

He quickly skimmed the story again, hoping to get something different out of it. Unfortunately it only served to verify his feeling that the entire incident was manufactured for his benefit. He sat back to think. Last night his dreams had been particularly vivid, but he was able to block out most of it thanks to his Occlumency lessons with Professor Spellsinger. He was suddenly glad he made the decision to risk trusting her. Otherwise, last night would have no doubt been far worse. The one thing he found himself unable to stop from entering his head was the gruesome warning mentioned in the article.

It had been meant for him.

Harry abruptly stood up and began to pace. Voldemort put a lot of effort into trying to push the thoughts of last night's misdeeds into his head. Like with the trap they set for him at the Ministry, it was all far too deliberate to be coincidence. The evil wizard wanted him to know what happened and wanted him to see the scene. The image of that woman's broken body flashed in his head, her face replaced with that of Hermione.

He shivered. Up until now, he and Hermione had been trying to keep their relationship quiet so as not to make things worse with Ron. Unfortunately, it appeared their best friend was still suffering from major ego issues and was not likely to get over them any time soon. Hermione was unwilling to pander to Ron's "whims", but Harry was unwilling to alienate one of the few people in the world he considered family. Now that this happened, he was beginning to wonder if it might not be better if he and Hermione waited to be together until after Voldemort was destroyed.

It had been two weeks since he and Hermione had shared their feelings with each other under the stars. Things were going well – he was happy for the first time in his life – but it was complicated by Ron's hostility and his worry over his friends. Hermione especially. He loved her more than he ever thought possible, but he could never live with himself if something happened to her. She was in so much danger already simply by virtue of being his friend. How would his enemies react if they knew how he felt about her?

The image of her broken body flashed in his mind again.

Sirius' death had brought home to him exactly how dangerous it was for people to be close to him. Despite himself, he had begun pushing his friends away for their own protection. Until he mastered Occlumency, he felt they were all in an unreasonable amount of danger, and even afterward, they would provide targets for Voldemort. Harry's heart lurched at the thought of Hermione being targeted by the Dark Lord and his followers. It had been bad enough that she was injured at the Ministry last year.

He sighed. As much as he wanted to be with Hermione and tell the world how he felt about her, he just couldn't bring himself to expose her to that kind of danger. He cared for her too much for that. He knew he would probably lose her because of it, but he would rather she be with someone else and stay alive than be in mortal danger with him. Nodding, he made his decision. He would talk with Hermione and explain it to her. He knew she would understand. She was always the sensible one.

"Harry?"

He started, looking around to see who called him. Hermione stood hesitantly on the stairs, watching him.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?"

She smiled. "I was worried about you. You ran out so fast." She finished climbing the stairs and came over to sit next to him. "So what brings you up here?"

"Thinking."

"About the article?"

He smiled. "Partially. I was also thinking about…uh…something else."

"Oh." She took his hand. "Care to share?"

His face flushed at her touch. "Uh, well, uh…I guess so."

She looked at him curiously. "What's bothering you, Harry?"

He sighed. _This is not going to be easy_, he thought, knowing what he had to do. Taking her other hand in his, he gazed into her eyes. "Hermione…" he began hesitantly.

"Yes Harry?" He tried to ignore the happiness in her eyes.

"Hermione, about us…"

She frowned at his hesitation. "What about us?"

"Look, Hermione, I would give anything to stay with you," he held up his hand, forestalling anything she had to say, "however, I don't think I can."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione, quite frankly, it's too dangerous. I care for you too much to put you in the kind of danger that would result from our having a relationship. I have…dreamed… for the past two years of being able to be with you as more than a friend. I just cast the feelings aside because I didn't want to ruin our friendship or my friendship with Ron. I tried to get with Cho in hopes of getting over my feelings for you, but you know how well that worked out. The truth is, Hermione, there is not a woman I can think of that can hold a candle to you. Maybe that's why I never really gave Cho an honest chance. I think I was just trying to deal with your relationship with Viktor. It's kinda hard to be a good friend if you're jealous of her boyfriend."

"Harry…"

"Wait, let me finish. When you got hurt in the Ministry of Magic, I couldn't forgive myself for putting you in such danger…"

"Harry, I chose to be there!"

"Yes, but you were the one cautioning me not to go charging off after Sirius and I did it anyway. He died because of my arrogance and you and Ron were injured. I should never have dragged you into it."

"Now you listen to me, Harry Potter, you didn't drag me and Ron anywhere. We chose to go with you. Because we're your friends. You can't take complete responsibility for everything that happened, Harry, because we were all responsible for our own actions."

"That may be true, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn't want to protect you?"

Hermione smiled. "Friends do that, Harry. They protect each other. As I want to protect you…"

"And I want to protect you! Hermione, Voldemort is going to target anyone he thinks is important to me. Like he did Sirius. If he knew how much I cared about you…" he hesitated, choking back a sob, "I could never forgive myself if something happened."

"Harry, what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying, Hermione, that…" he took a deep breath, steeling himself, "…that we should just remain friends. Only friends."

Hurt filled her eyes. "Harry…" she began.

He shushed her with a gesture. "Hermione. I can barely live with the fact that I got Sirius killed. I'm not sure what I would do if something happened to you. But I know I could never live with myself. Please, don't take this as a rejection. This is for your own good."

"But Harry…"

"Please, Hermione? Let me protect you the only way I know how?"

Hermione sighed, realizing Harry had made up his mind. She nodded. "Very well, Harry. I understand." She squeezed his hand. "But I want you to understand that it does not change how I feel about you, or how I will try to protect you in return." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "I will be there beside you, Harry. Never forget that."

She got up and headed down the stairs, leaving Harry to stare sadly after her.


	8. Lessons of Love

Sorry it took so long for the update. I'm trying to get better. Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks for reading.

* * *

Potions was the first class of the day, and Ginny knew she could not afford to be even slightly late without losing points for Gryffindor. There were about fifteen minutes left until she needed to be in the Potions classroom – just enough time to hopefully catch Julian before he left for class. The pain in Harry's eyes as a result of the attack last night had gotten to her and she felt the need for Julian's gentlemanly comfort.

She was not expecting an owl to be perched on her bed, waiting. It had a scroll tied to its leg – fine grey parchment sealed with silver wax. The seal was in the shape of a small dragon, forcing her to double check that it was addressed to her. It was, so she broke the seal.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_This morning as I gazed at the sunrise, I could not help but think of your incredible beauty. Your hair shines like the clouds in the morning sun, illuminating your alabaster skin with the light of heaven. Your eyes are like bronze, shining with the inner light of your extraordinary self. Ginny, you are the most stunning woman I have ever seen. Your mere presence lights my existence like nothing else in the world._

_Please do me the honor of exchanging letters with me. For years I have admired you from afar, never daring to move too close to your glory. But I can help myself no longer. I cannot live without trying to get to know the incredible person that holds such beauty._

_I await your response with fevered anticipation._

_Your Secret Admirer_

Ginny sat back in her seat, shocked. She shook her head at her wild speculations. Who could possibly be writing to her like this? Julian? As much as she wished it were he, it just was not his style. He was far more forward and gallant. He would simply present a scroll to her in some romantic style, assuming of course that he liked her as much as she liked him. It was very hard to tell, sometimes. But back to the letter. It was written in meticulously calligraphic letters, well suited to the flowery language used by its author. She carefully studied the letter, looking for clues indicating who might have sent it. Unfortunately, the only thing she found was a nametag on the owl: Icarus.

"Ginny?"

Hermione stood in the doorway, looking at her friend expectantly. "You remember we have class in five minutes, right?"

Ginny started. "Oh bugger! Uh, right! Just getting my books."

Hermione looked at her strangely. "What is that? And whose owl is that?"

"I don't know. I came back from breakfast and here it was. It brought me this letter."

"So why doesn't it leave?"

"I think it's waiting for a response."

"Well, it's going to be waiting for a while. We can't afford to be late."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, we certainly don't need to give Snape more reasons to deduct points from Gryffindor. You're going to have to wait, Icarus," she whispered. Grabbing her books, she followed the older girl to class.

They barely made it in time for the bell.

Ginny returned from class later that evening to discover Icarus still perched on her bed. She was relieved she had thought to bring him something to eat, and while she fed him, considered her next course of action. She talked with Julian right after class and managed to steer the conversation so that he confirmed to her he was not the one who sent the letter. She tried to ignore the sharp pain of disappointment, but in all honesty, she had expected it. Julian was nice, but he did not seem to possess the kind of audacity required to send such a letter.

She decided the only thing she could do was respond to it. If he replied, then things were about to get rather interesting; if not, then she could concentrate on getting Julian's attention. She thought she had it, but was not completely sure. Padma seemed pretty taken with the new Gryffindor heartthrob and he didn't seem too adverse to her interest. Leave it to her to be interested in a guy with a taste for annoying Ravenclaws.

Selecting her materials carefully, Ginny went through what was almost a ritual to prepare herself to write her first letter to the mysterious "Secret Admirer." The paper she chose was a tissue-thin parchment, pink, lightly sprayed with her favorite perfume. She read somewhere that it was a necessity when writing love letters. Opening the box of her calligraphy set – a Muggle device given to her by her grandmother years before – she selected an appropriate pen and began meticulously shaping the artful letters on the page. She composed the letter as she went, confident that it was better for her to write what she thought than to plan it out. Hermione was far better at that than her anyway.

Less than an hour later she finished and sat back to admire the end result. The calligraphy was beautiful; not as much as his, but she figured he used magic to write his letter. The wording was simple yet expressed her feelings. Knowing she shouldn't put it off any longer, she signed it with a flourish, and then looked around for something appropriate to seal it with. She finally settled on a red and gold ribbon she had saved from Christmas last year. Taking a deep breath, she tied it to Icarus' leg, and sent him off to his master with a treat.

Draco Malfoy looked up as an owl flew into his room. For a moment, he experienced a thrill of dread at the thought of another letter from his father, but then found himself relieved at the familiar sight of Icarus. Excitement pushed all thoughts of his father away. She had written back! He quickly retrieved the scroll from his new owl and gave him a treat for his patience. Hands shaking, he carefully unrolled the lightly scented scroll.

_Dear Secret Admirer,_

_I wish I could respond in kind to the wonderful letter you sent, but without knowing who you are, I'm afraid I can't. Perhaps it would be better for us to meet somewhere and get to know each other better. Then we can start exchanging flowery letters like the one you sent. It was beautiful, I must say. I almost swooned reading it. You have a talent with words. Are you perhaps in Ravenclaw?_

_Please write back. I would definitely like to get to know you better._

_Ginevra Weasley_

Draco could hardly contain himself. She fell for it! He knew the first letter was a bit over the top, but he wanted to get her attention. Which he apparently did. He honestly thought she would send the letter back and tell him to bugger off or something. _Pansy was right, all women are romantics_, he thought. _Perfect_. He made a mental note to remember that for when he got married. It would be easier for him to get his way.

_Now, what do I write next,_ he wondered. Draco pulled Pansy's book out from under his mattress and looked at the second letter. _More of the same_, he noticed. _That won't do. She'll get bored and annoyed. So something of substance_. Pulling out another sheet of the special vellum from his mother, Draco cast the calligraphy spell on his pen and began to write.

This letter was longer than the last, and was filled with a bit less fluff than the first. He could not risk making her bored or annoyed. Winning the bet was not going to be as easy as he thought, but he had to admit he enjoyed the challenge. The shameless flattery came easily to him, and he found himself embellishing a bit to increase the effect. He was looking forward to seeing Hadenthor's face crumble when he walked into the Ball with Ginny Weasley on his arm.

That reminded him. He would definitely need to take her shopping sometime. There was no way he was going to be seen with a girl in hand-me-down robes. Draco frowned. For her to be acceptable, she was going to need some serious work. That hadn't occurred to him until now. How was he going to get the girl presentable by the end of the year? His mind wandered back to the summer when he saw her and the Mudblood in Hathaway's. He saw how she enjoyed wearing the jewelry, which was fine but only about as much as his mother's casual collection. As much as he hated to admit it, the set looked good on her and she really did carry herself with a natural grace and poise very different from what one would expect of a Weasley.

Maybe it would not be so difficult after all.

Draco spent the rest of the evening making plans. A timeline for their meeting, ideas for trinkets to send as gifts, sketches of things to say in the letters – he had to be very careful he didn't reveal too much – and most importantly, plans for the dance. He needed to sweep her off her feet so that she did not lose interest or wander off to someone else. He was not sure how much of a stickler Hadenthor was going to be, so he wanted to make sure she stayed with him for the whole dance. He could always set up something for later.

As for the letters, he wanted hints here and there to point to him being in Slytherin, but nothing so obvious as to reveal his identity before it was time. She was going to have difficulty getting used to the idea of being attracted to a Slytherin, much less Draco Malfoy. Everything was contingent on her willingness to let the past be and take a step into the future without prejudice. Ironically enough, he figured Ginny was the only member of the great Gryffindors with that capability. Potter and his little sycophants would always be suspicious of him, but Ginny would give him the benefit of the doubt. That made her perfect. It was still going to be hard to get over her hatred of all things Malfoy. Bloody Lucius. Him and his damn diary. He had his work cut out for him.

The next day Draco sent the letter off to Ginny. He made sure to do it before they left for Hogsmeade, so she would have plenty of time to think about it during the day. At breakfast he tried to unobtrusively observe her to see if there was any change in her behaviour. To his disappointment, she seemed the same as ever. Icarus must not have gotten to her room before she left for the Great Hall. He frowned as something caught his eye. It looked as if she was flirting with that new Gryffindor bloke, Julius, or something like that. His eyes narrowed. Ginny was his. Admittedly, she did not know it yet, but no spineless little Gryffindor wanker was going to steal her away. He would win the bet no matter what it took.

Draco realized his plans were in jeopardy. That smug little bastard could destroy his chances with his friendly smile and sickeningly kind eyes. He had the urge to poke them out with his wand. He needed a plan and fast. One look at Blaise was all it took for him to decide his course of action. It would be perfect.

Ginny smiled as Julian went back to his seat. Ron was glowering, and looking around the hall, but for once she didn't care. Julian had finally asked her out! It was too bad Harry and Hermione had yet to make an appearance. She could not wait to tell her bushy-haired friend the news. Odd. There was something going on between Harry and his girlfriend. Both of them had been unusually quiet yesterday but she had been so absorbed in thinking about her secret admirer that she pushed the observation aside.

She needed to figure out what was going on.

Unfortunately, the fates were not cooperating with Ginny this morning so she was unable to question either of them before class. The couple arrived from different directions, which spoke louder than words about there being a problem. Ron seemed far too happy upon seeing it, which was a bit disturbing, and she noticed he placed himself firmly between the couple in Charms.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Determined to get to the bottom of her friends' strange behaviour, Ginny made sure she sat next to Hermione in their next class, glaring at Ron until he found a seat away from them. It seemed like Harry deliberately sat away from his girlfriend. Yes. There was definitely something wrong here.

The bell rang and Professor Spellsinger entered the class with her usual flair. Ginny often wondered if she did it purposefully to thumb her nose at Snape. It was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that the two professors did not get along.

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you have all had a good day thus far." The young professor turned to the chalkboard and flicked her wand.

They were all surprised at what was written there.

"The Power of Love?" wondered Malfoy aloud.

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy. It is one of the most powerful forces in the universe." She smiled at the frankly skeptical looks her statement garnered. "I see I will need to do some convincing. Very well. Turn to page 257 of your texts and read the section entitled 'The Art of Emotive Magic'."

Even the skeptical students were curious and the class was silent for the next fifteen minutes while everyone read. Hermione had, of course, already read over the lesson and spent the short time reviewing. Ginny was finished well before the other students which gave her time to quickly pass Hermione a note while the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was not looking. They had to be careful since the woman seemed to possess a perception similar to Snape's.

_H,_

_What's wrong with you and Harry?_

_G._

Hermione frowned and quickly glanced up to see if the professor was paying attention. She seemed to be absorbed in her reading, prompting the brown-haired girl to risk sending a reply.

_Harry broke up with me for my own good._

What?

_He thinks I'll be safer if we are not dating._

Idiot.

_He's just trying to protect me._

Does he honestly think no one can tell how he feels about you?

_I don't know. I think he probably does._

Idiot.

_Ginny!_

Tell me I'm wrong. I guess that's why Ron's so happy?

_He agrees with Harry that the best way to keep me safe is to stay away._

I guess the fact that you're Muggle-born means nothing then.

_I wish._

Both of them are idiots. Maybe we should…

"That will be enough of that, Miss Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor from both you and Miss Granger. I trust there will not be a repeat of this?"

"No, Professor."

"Good. Now," she said, looking around the classroom, "is it too much to hope that all of you have completed your reading? Mr. Longbottom, Miss Parkinson, you will have time to read the rest of the chapter later. Right now I would like all of you to listen."

Another flick of her wand cleared the board and left a piece of chalk hovering nearby. Notes appeared on the board as she spoke. "There are many different types of magic in this world, only a few of which are taught at Hogwarts. A number of them are very rare, but there is one that is almost fundamental to all other magic – that of emotion. The three Unforgivables: Imperious, Cruciatus, and the Killing Curse, all require a certain type of emotion to be present to actually work. That of hatred. One must have such a hatred for something or someone that you are willing to do anything to control, torment, or kill them. Few have the depth of anger and rage necessary to form even the basis for such dark emotions. For those who do, however, they possess a very formidable weapon against the light. Yes, Miss Patil?"

"Does that mean that the Death Eaters are going to win?"

Ryselle shook her head. "Not at all. Not all Death Eaters are capable of casting all three curses, and even those who are can be fought with the opposite of their dark emotions."

"Love?"

"Yes, Miss Brown, love."

"Wouldn't this lesson be more suited to Valentine's Day rather than some odd day in October?" Draco sneered as he asked the question.

"Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy, but why wait? If you like, you can pretend the classroom is decorated with your favorite Valentine's Day embellishments. Should I have a Valentine sent to you?"

The class laughed.

He flushed. "No, Professor, that's not necessary."

"I am so glad to hear that. Now, just like everyone has the capacity for great hatred within them, we also possess the ability for great love. Fortunately for us love is far more common than hate and because of that, someone like Voldemort will only ever be able to be victorious for a short time, if ever."

This time it was Thanos Acheron that caught the professor's attention with his derisive snort.

"You have a problem with this, Mr. Acheron?"

"I just think this is a waste of our time, _Professor_."

"I see. And why would that be, Mr. Acheron?"

He blinked, obviously not expecting her personal attention. "Uh, well, Professor, it just seems a bit hokey to me."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Harry would you please stand up a moment?"

Confused, Harry rose from his seat.

"I want you to watch something very carefully," the professor told the students. Pointing her wand at Harry, she said, "_Illuminatus Protegus_!"

A silver bolt of energy emerged from the teacher's wand and struck Harry in the chest, surprising him and the rest of the class. What surprised them even more was the white aura that appeared to absorb the bolt. Eyes wide, he looked in stunned disbelief at the professor.

"Behold, the power of love. What you just saw was the protective aura that surrounds Harry at all times as a result of his mother's sacrifice. She gave her life to save him, out of love, and that protection will remain with him forever." She looked around the classroom for volunteers. "Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you would care to try?"

Looking around at his housemates, Draco sighed. Why the bloody hell was she picking on him? "Of course, Professor." He stood up.

"Brace yourself. _Illuminatus Protegus_!" The silver bolt struck Draco in the chest, pushing him back into his chair. It was clear to the entire class that the bolt was not absorbed by anything.

"Now, few people have the type of protection Harry does. In many ways they are very fortunate. The price is very high, so it is very rare. There are, however, other more common protections that can be produced through the power of love. Whether that love be for a parent, sibling, lover, friend, or spouse – it is one of the most powerful forces in the universe and should never be underestimated."

Ginny glanced over at Malfoy and could have swore she saw a watery sparkle in his eye. She could not blame him. Professor Spellsinger had meant no harm, but she just drove home the fact that he did not have the type of love Harry did. She almost felt sorry for him.

Ryselle turned to the chalkboard and gestured. "Some of the most powerful spells in history have been created through motivation resulting from love. There are legends that even speak of spells capable of crossing over to the other side." Ginny could swear she saw the professor hesitate. "But those are legends, and none of those spells have been seen in centuries. More recent spells, such as many of the spells protecting Hogwarts were inspired by the very emotions that many deride. Some of the most famous lovers in history are said to have used such spells to protect their loved ones. It is said King Arthur was protected in combat by a scabbard sewn for him by his Queen Guinevere. Lancelot was thought to be made invincible by his love for his king and queen…"

"But didn't Guinevere and Lancelot betray King Arthur?" one of the students asked timidly.

"Depending on the historical perspective, maybe. There are those that say the three were joined by bonds of love so closely they could not be separated. It was only after they were betrayed and forced to sever those bonds that Camelot fell. Unfortunately, we will never know. But all historians agree that there was some sort of special bond between the three that served Camelot well for many years."

"So is it possible to love more than one person?" The question came from Seamus.

"Well, Mr. Finnigan. You love your mother, correct?"

He nodded.

"Your father? Grandparents? Siblings?"

He nodded.

"And one day you will hopefully marry some nice girl and not reject all of them to be able to do so, is that correct?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I couldn't stop loving my family just because I fell in love with someone else."

"Thus you answer your own question. There are different types of love, my friends, and all of them are different. In most cases, romantic love does not allow us the freedom to be with more than one person. Hence the reason that most of us find a mate and stay with that person for the rest of our lives. But we have the capacity to love more than that one person. We simply choose to limit ourselves. In some areas of the world, men have twenty wives, all of which they love dearly. In most others, one. We are defined by our environment. And we make the choice to follow its traditions."

"Do Gypsies marry more than one person, Professor?" asked Ron.

"Very few, Ron. Gypsies typically mate for life. One person and no other for as long as they live."

"What if they die," asked Harry quietly.

A look of pain crossed Ryselle's face. "Then we wait to be reunited with them in the afterlife."

The raven-haired professor briskly took some scrolls off her desk and handed them out. "Now, I would like you to read this document on famous people and spells, and write me a two foot essay on how you think the power of love can or cannot affect magic. There is no correct answer here, I wish you to choose a position and defend it using what you have discovered in your studies."

The rest of the class passed quietly, but left Ginny wondering what the bloody hell Harry thought he was doing. Maybe their lesson today might get him to see reason. Considering how stubborn he was, however, probably not.

Bugger.

The next few days passed, and Draco decided to take some time to re-evaluate his plans and make some changes. Ginny had yet to respond to his letter. Her attention seemed taken up by that Gryffindor bloke, and he would not be able to do anything about it until the weekend. He had to admit he was enjoying the challenge of trying to figure out how to win the Weaselette over the annoying boy. He smirked every time he passed the sandy-haired Gryffindor in the halls, knowing that the girl he wanted would soon be his. He just needed to make a few arrangements this weekend, and his competition would soon disappear.

Draco arranged to meet with Blaise Zabini while they were in Hogsmeade during the weekend. The curiosity in her eyes assured him that she would be there, and knowing her, probably very amenable to his plans. Breakfast that morning was an exercise in observation. The more he watched the Gryffindor table, the more he determined his plan necessary for his success. That little Julius wanker was sitting entirely too close to Ginny and even the Weasel King seemed okay with it.

"Boy, Draco, that's too bad."

"What? What the bloody hell are you talking about, Hadenthor?"

"The Weaselette. She seems rather taken with that Aldread bloke. I guess you just got there too late. Or maybe you shouldn't have gotten her detention…"

"Bugger off, Hadenthor. I've got it under control. Aldread is not going to be a problem for much longer."

"Well that's good. I'd really hate to see you fail, Malfoy."

_I'm sure_. "I'll bear that in mind, Hadenthor. Merlin forbid I disappoint you."

Hadenthor flashed him and grin and then went back to flirting with one of the Slytherin fifth years. Bloody prat. Why did he agree to this stupid bet? _Because it's better than trying to win back Pansy_, his mind whispered. At least Weasley is somewhat attractive. For a poverty-stricken insult to Purebloods. The rest of breakfast was uneventful, and Draco left the hall deep in thought, his mind spinning about what he'd observed. Despite his hatred of the Aldread boy, he had to admit the Gryffindor seemed to know how to get Weas… Ginny's attention. _Mental note, her favorite flowers appear to be orchids_.

Draco was due to meet Blaise at The Three Broomsticks for lunch, so he had plenty of time to walk around, do some observing, and pick up a few things for future use. He had a few plans that were going to require supplies. The first thing he noticed was the way Weasley, whatever the youngest boy's name was, kept trying to walk between Potter and the Mudblood. What the bloody hell was his problem? Ginny seemed annoyed with him, but the majority of her attention was focused on the Gryffindor prat holding her hand. Oh yes. He definitely had to put a stop to that.

He followed them as they went to Zonko's Joke Shop to pick up something the Weasel boy apparently ordered, and then over to the Weasley's shop for a few more things and a chat. Draco lurked impatiently just inside the door, hidden by his Invisibility Cloak. While waiting for the Golden Trio and their little hangers-on to finish up, he looked around the store. He was impressed despite himself. Contrary to what most people thought, he actually was rather entertained by the Weasley twins. Their exit from Hogwart's had hacked him off at the time, but looking back now made him smirk at the dumbfounded look on that batty hag's face. They appeared to be doing well for themselves. Maybe he'd drop by and get something later. Snape would probably love to give Potter and Weasley detention for something not their fault.

Granger appeared rather impatient. She finally displayed that infamous Gryffindor backbone and told her companions that she was going to the bookstore down the street. He was surprised she lasted this long. Oddly enough, Potter gave the Aldread boy a significant look and the princely Gryffindor immediately suggested he accompany her. Perfect. With Aldread and Granger gone, all he needed to do was get Ginny's attention away from her brothers and perfect Potter. His chance came a short time later when the twins offered to show Potter and Weasley something that was apparently for guys only.

Smirking with glee, Draco quickly exited the store and pulled off the cloak. Thankfully no one saw him, not that they would say anything, and he sauntered into the shop. Ginny whirled around to see who was there and seemed shocked and extremely annoyed to see that it was he.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Tut tut, Weasley. Surely your brothers wouldn't appreciate you driving away a prospective customer."

"They wouldn't care if that customer was you, Malfoy."

"Even if I was prepared to purchase a… significant number of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

Ginny gaped at him for a moment before responding. "I'll believe it when I see it, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"Goodness. Perhaps I should go and make sure everyone knows about the hospitality of the Weasleys' shop." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" He knew Ginny was not about to let her personal feelings cost her brothers business. "What products are you interested in, Malfoy?"

"What, no 'Mister'?"

"Don't push your luck."

He flashed her a smile. "I will endeavor to contain myself." A surge of satisfaction went through him as her lips twitched. _Oh yes. Make a girl smile. Step one to getting her to fall head over heels in love with you. Go Draco. _ "It is my understanding your brothers have put together some sample packages. I would like to purchase the one with the greatest variety of merchandise."

"Are you sure? It's pretty expen… oh. Never mind."

He smirked. _Impress her with wealth. Step two_.

"I'll be right back, Malfoy. I need to ask George where they keep the crates."

_Crate_? "Fine, Weasley. I'll wait." He assumed a bored demeanor.

Several minutes later she was back with a small box about the size of a lunch basket. "Here you are, Malfoy. That will be fifteen Galleons."

_Fifteen_? "Here." Once the money exchanged hands she seemed far more relaxed. She was no doubt happy her brothers just made such a big sale. Perhaps it was that which prompted his next question. "Is it safe to assume you are busy for lunch?"

Ginny stared at him in shock. "Uh… yeah. Uh… thanks for asking, though."

What the hell was he thinking? "Uh… good. I will see you around, Weaselette."

"Yeah, right back at you, Ferret Face."

He had to get out of there. Obviously, something in that shop was affecting him. Draco strode out of the shop, appearing purposeful but in actually fleeing as if his hair was on fire. He quickly began moving from store to store, working his way through the long list of errands he brought with him. Lunch came far too quickly and with it the need to meet Blaise. If he wanted that Aldread boy away from Ginny, he had to talk with her. If he wanted Ginny to go with him to the ball, he had to make sure she never found out about his plan.

Back in the store, Ginny stared for a brief moment as Draco Malfoy left. Who would have ever guessed the Prince of Slytherin would grace her brothers' prank store with his illustrious presence? She needed to warn Harry and Ron about the git's purchase. Well, maybe just Harry. Ron was still being a prat. She was two seconds away from hexing him when the twins decided to take the boys in back. Lucky that. She had a new hex to try out and Malfoy was off-limits since he was shopping.

Ginny decided she had waited long enough for the boys to return. It was their store. They could suffer for their lack of attention. She was going to find Hermione and Julian. Not that it was hard. Hermione was across the street comfortably ensconced in one of the chairs looking over a tower of books while Julian waited patiently nearby. Her heart leapt as she saw he was writing something. Could she have been wrong? Is he her secret admirer?

"Hello, Ginny. I was wondering if you would be joining us." Julian carefully placed the papers in a folder and then turned his full attention to her. He flashed her a charming smile.

"Hey, Julian. I should have come with you from the start. Bloody bastards abandoned me almost as soon as you left."

"Oh dear. My apologies. I thought you might enjoy the opportunity to speak with your brothers."

Ah. That's why he left. "I appreciate the thought, Julian. No, the twins got excited about showing Harry and Ron some sort of 'guys only' prank. It's probably fairly wicked, but highly gross or embarrassing."

"They're probably planning to use it on you later," interjected Hermione.

"Not if they value their bits they won't."

Julian squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "That's a horrible threat to make, Ginny."

"Who said it was a threat?" The innocent eyes made it all seem far more horrifying. But Julian looked like he needed reassurance. "Oh don't worry, Julian. Your bits are safe as long as you don't participate."

"You have nothing to worry about on that account. I am most certainly not so foolish as to cross either of you."

Ginny grinned.

"Why don't the two of you go to Madame Puddifoot's, Ginny? I'll be fine here."

Julian shook his head. "I would love to, Hermione, but I promised Harry I would not let you alone."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I'll be fine, Julian. I'm in a bookstore. Go. Have fun with Ginny."

"Hermione, I cannot in good conscience leave you here by yourself."

"Then I will remain with her."

The startled students whirled to see Professor Spellsinger standing nearby, a pile of books in her arms. "I am planning to be here for a time. It will not be an inconvenience." She smiled at Julian. "I believe I am at least somewhat capable of protecting Hermione, should she need it."

"Uh, of course, Professor! Thank you." Ginny's face lit up at the Gypsy's presence. It was a perfect solution. "Come on, Julian!"

The two students hurried off, leaving Hermione and Ryselle to read in silence. Hermione was grateful to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for making her presence known. She knew Ginny and Julian wanted some time alone together that did not involve hiding from her brother or supervised visits in the common room. Ron's devotion to guarding her virtue would have been funny if it was not so bloody annoying. Ginny was getting frustrated to the point of nearly hexing her brother, and today had simply been an exercise in hacking everyone off. Ron spent his time placing himself between Harry and herself, but was also trying to watch over Julian and his sister. She sighed. Why was he being such a prat? Sure he liked her, but he was well aware that she was in love with Harry. Why was he jealous? Nothing was going to happen between her and Harry until Voldemort was destroyed anyway. Why couldn't he just move on to someone that actually liked him? Like Luna.

Life was too bloody complicated.

"He will come to terms with it, Hermione. Give him time."

Hermione was startled. Was she being that obvious? "What, Professor?"

"Mr. Weasley. He needs some time to get over what he believes is love. He will learn in time. It is always hardest the first time around."

"Uh, thanks, Professor. Er… why do you say that?"

"It is quite obvious to anyone that knows how to look, Hermione. He is not being subtle with his jealousy, nor is he making secret the fact that he desires you."

"Yeah. Because Harry does."

"I do not believe that is all there is to it, but I can see your point. Perhaps he merely needs to find another to take his attention."

Hermione sniffed with disdain. "He would move on without a thought, wouldn't he?"

"Do you not wish that?"

"Well of course I do! I just…"

"It is flattering to be loved in such a way, is it not? Especially when the object of your devotion is not willing to make a commitment."

"Yeah." Hermione thought for a moment before eying her professor curiously. "Professor. May I ask you a question?"

"You may ask anything you like. I will not promise to answer it, however."

"Did you ever have to go through this?" It occurred to Hermione that the young teacher might have some insight for her, especially considering her apparent age. Professor McGonagall was far older than her and no doubt did not have the same understanding of relationships. It was more comfortable to speak with the younger professor.

"Not exactly," said Ryselle hesitantly. "I… my experience was different, but in some ways similar."

"What happened?"

"I loved him but he did not feel the same way. We were friends and I was too afraid to tell him how I felt." She looked away, but not before Hermione saw the tears. "Then he died."

Hermione flashed back to their recent class on the power of love. "Oh bloody… I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to…"

"That is alright, Hermione. I do not mind. I understand your difficulty." Ryselle turned back to face Hermione. "Think on this. Now Harry at least knows how you feel. That is far more important that you may ever know. He returns your affection but wishes to protect you, correct?" The bushy haired Gryffindor nodded. "Take comfort in that. One day he will discover that you are his greatest salvation. Then he will return to you."

Hope surged within Hermione at the words. "I dearly hope so, Professor."

"Have faith, Hermione. Love will find a way."

"'Mione! Look what we got!" Harry and Ron strode excitedly to the table and each dumped an armful of candy on the surface. "Fred and George gave these to us! Isn't it great?"

Hermione frowned. "Ronald. It's not 'great'. You're a Prefect, for Merlin's sake. We are not taking these back to Hogwarts with us."

"But 'Mione…" Ron whined.

"Don't call me that! And don't think you're going to successfully beg me to allow this."

"But they…"

"Ron…"

"… are an experiment! They're Transfiguration Toffees. It's bloody brilliant!"

"Ron…" Harry tried again to get his friend's attention. It was obvious the excited Gryffindor was paying little attention to what, or more importantly who, was around. Meanwhile, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked on in amusement.

"This one right here. The ones with the red wrapper will transform the person eating it into a gnome!" He picked up a brown one. "This will change them into a house-elf. This one…"

Hermione's face flushed in anger. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! How could you? That's horrible! Do you know what kind of indignities house-elves face on a daily basis? Changing a person into one for a joke makes a mockery of their sad little lives! I…"

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione. Give up on that stupid lecture of yours. I refuse to join your stupid crusade to help the ruddy creatures gain a freedom they don't want! Do you know what they used to do with your hats last year?"

"Ron…" Harry warned.

"What?"

"Dobby threw them away! They refused to go inside the tower because they were afraid of finding one of your stupid, ugly hats! They didn't want your stupid cause, Hermione! They like things the way they are!"

"Not all of them, Ron! I just feel they should have the freedom to choose!"

"S.P.E.W," he mimicked, "is a Very Important Organization dedicated to the freedom of house-elves everywhere." He glared at her. "Never mind the fact that we need them to work for us…"

"Which is why they should be paid!"

"…and that our society would be forced to severely change if they were suddenly let go to wander about on their own. Would you be the one doing the work of house-elves if they were freed?"

"Compensation, Ronald, and the choice of whom they serve are the least they deserve for their place in our society. What they have now is slavery!"

"It's what they want! It's what they need. House-elves need to belong to someone. Look at Dobby. He's only happy when he's serving someone."

"Not the Malfoys!"

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione! Get off it already. You're not from the Wizarding world. You can't possibly understand! Ugh!" He threw his arms up in disgust.

"Maybe not, Ron, but I know injustice when I see it. At least I don't put on blinders and ignore the fact that an entire race of people is being enslaved by another. There should be laws against that."

"I think I'm going to spew," muttered Ron.

"What did you say?"

"Spew! I said I think I'm going to spew. You know, S-P-E-W. This whole conversation makes me sick! You can't bring your bloody Muggle attitudes into the Wizarding world and expect us all to change just to suit their stupid ideals."

"Stupid?"

Harry winced at the sharp tone of Hermione's voice. This needed to stop.

"Ronald Weasley!"

"What, Harry?"

"I think you've said enough."

"I haven't said nearly…"

Ryselle stood up, startling Ron into silence. "Actually, Mr. Weasley, I do believe you have said plenty. I must admit you have a rather interesting perspective on house-elves, but that is for another time. These," she said, gesturing at the candy, "are something for this moment. I believe I will take them back and lock them away until the holiday. And I must warn you that if I find a single one of these at Hogwarts, you will be given detention."

"But…"

"Feel fortunate I am not of a mind to take points." She gestured and the candies gathered themselves into a pile and jumped into her handbag. "I would suggest you learn to moderate your impulses if you wish to avoid further punishment. Good day, my friends." In a flurry of violet robes she was gone, leaving a smirking Hermione, surprised Harry, and stunned Ron in her wake.

"Well. I guess that takes care of that."

"Bugger off, Hermione!" Ron shouted and then stormed out of the bookstore.

"Honestly!" Hermione sniffed, rolling her eyes at the red-haired boy's behaviour. "Why does he have to be so immature?"

Harry was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Er…"

"Don't say it, Harry. I know. Ron has a point about the house-elves not wanting freedom and I should not force it on them." She looked at him. "I've been studying history, you know. You can't free a people that are not willing to fight for it. Ron will be happy to know that S.P.E.W. is no longer in operation."

He was rooted to the floor in shock. "You're giving up?"

"No!" Hermione's eyes flashed with indignation. "I'm not giving up. I'm just going to be a bit less forceful about it. I've asked Dobby to make it known that if a house-elf desires freedom then I will do everything in my power to make sure they get it. But I am still working toward fair wages. I just… it's a back issue until we take care of other things."

Harry nodded. Voldemort was a bit of a larger issue than house-elf fair wages. Still, he would bet his Firebolt that Hermione had at least one knitted hat concealed somewhere on her person, just in case. Hmmm. Maybe he should carry one around too. That way he would not have to lose another sock. Hermione was seated back at the table, perusing the large tome in front of her. He couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like she was reading a history book. History?

"What are you doing, 'Mione?" Ooh. Maybe he should not have called her that.

"Reading about the Sidhe."

"The… what?"

"Sidhe. They are typically referred to as elves in fairy tales."

"Oh." He hesitated, waiting for her to continue but she just sat there reading. "Er… why are you reading about them?"

"I talked to a friend of mine in France this summer. He said the Sidhe are real and that I'd probably be interested in the actual history."

Harry involuntarily fought down a surge of jealousy. He? Who the hell was "he"? "Ah. I see."

Hermione read for a few moments more before spearing Harry with her eyes. "What?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want, Harry? I'm trying to read and having you sit there staring at me is rather distracting."

Tell me about it, he thought. "Er… uh… I was… uh… trying to figure out something to read."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Really, Harry. You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child that needs minding. Go do whatever it is you want!"

_I wish I could_, Harry thought. The image of them snogging in the Astronomy Tower appeared in his head. _Augh_! "Uh… well, 'Mione, I… uh… missed you this summer and was hoping to spend some time with you." _Hopefully that didn't sound too pathetic._

She blushed. "Oh… um… I'm sorry, Harry. I… well… Ron said… I just… had to go."

"I know, 'Mione. I don't blame you. He was a bit of a prat. I just wish you had at least said goodbye."

"Oh Harry! I'm so sorry! I wasn't… I didn't… think…"

"It's okay, 'Mione. I'm okay." He gave her a sly smirk. "I'll be even better if you come over here and give me a hug, though."

Her heart leapt at the suggestion and in an instant she was enfolded in his arms. This was why she wanted to be with him. Something about being in his presence, in his embrace made her feel safe, loved, and complete like nothing else she could imagine. It was with great reluctance that she let him push her back to a safe distance.

"Uh… I hope you don't mind," Harry stammered. "I just…"

"Shhh. I know, Harry. It's okay. You remember that I love you, right?"

He nodded.

"Then you have my permission to hug me whenever you want."

He grinned. "I'll probably be taking you up on that, Miss Granger."

"It would be my pleasure to oblige, Mr. Potter."

Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, was waiting impatiently in The Three Broomsticks for Blaise to grace him with her presence. It was several minutes past the time of their meeting, but she had yet to make an appearance. He knew it was her not-so-subtle way of telling him that she was doing him a favor by meeting him. Bloody hell. This was going to cost him.

"Hi Draco."

"Blaise." The dark-haired Slytherin sauntered over and joined Draco at his table.

"Butterbeer?"

"Thanks."

Blaise took a long swig of her butterbeer before she focused a sharp eye on Draco and came straight to the point. "What do you want, Draco?"

This was why he liked working with her. She was a total professional. "I need a favor, Blaise."

"I'm listening."

"I need you to… seduce a certain Gryffindor away from his red-headed Weasel."

A quick flash of emotion crossed her face. "I imagine you're talking about the Weasley girl and the pathetic sod she seems to have roped in?"

"Correct."

"And what do I get out of this little… joy?"

"You mean aside from the pleasure of knowing that you are furthering the plans of my father and his Master?"

"Cut the crap, Malfoy. You know I don't care about that. The winning side is the only right side. Now what are you offering?"

"What do you want?"

"That's not how this works. Make an offer or I walk and you can get Parkinson to try and woo the brainless wonder."

Bugger. He knew exactly what she wanted, but hoped he could get away with far less. Ah well. He chose Blaise for a reason. "All right, Blaise. I'm prepared to make your dreams come true. I'm willing to have a bit of a chat with Goyle senior about his son's suit for your hand. I have no doubt he will understand the implications of my displeasure when all Malfoy assets are restored to their… independent status should he continue to insist."

"And I want an offer from Adrian Pucey."

"What?" He wasn't expecting that.

"If I lose Goyle's offer my father will immediately try and get me tied to Crabbe or someone else equally noxious. I can deal with Adrian. Especially if the stories about his… extracurricular skills are true."

He thought about it for a moment, and then carefully controlled the grin that threatened to break out on his face. Pucey was looking for a potential bride and the Zabinis were a well-established pure-blood family. He'd been interested in Blaise for a while now, but her father's support of the Goyles made a suit impossible.

Perhaps he could get two favors for the price of one.

"Let's compromise. I'll talk with him and try my best to sell him on the idea. Wear that uniform shirt you shrunk to get my attention last year to class Monday. It'll get him thinking in the right direction. You seduce the Aldread boy and I'll make sure Pucey gets jealous. As soon as the Weaselette dumps Aldread, you can dump him and let Pucey rescue you from that caddish Gryffindor."

Blaise eyed him, considering. Finally with a grin, she held out her hand. "Deal."

He smirked. _Perfect_.


	9. Venus and Mars

**A/N:** It was pointed out to me that I left out a section of the Ginny/Draco interaction. My apologies. Here is the rewritten chapter with the expanded part.

Maegmel– Julian is upset that you want to get rid of him and is threatening to boycott the rest of the story if he's not given some sort of appeasement. ;) Yes, don't worry. We'll be dealing with Julian soon. This is, after all, a D/G story.

Chailyn Cole Runewood – I know the Sidhe are not necessarily elves. It seemed convenient to use the term, however, since I didn't want people automatically thinking house elves. That definition of the Sidhe is taken simply from a book I read once about the fight between the Sidhe and the Bane-Sidhe. I thought it fit for the small bit I stuck here, and it distinguishes them from the house elf of Harry Potter canon. I'm glad you like the story anyway.

Thank you guys for reading.

* * *

Ginny returned to her room in a state of satisfied bliss. While she had to admit Madam Puddifoot's teashop was a bit over-the-top, it really was very romantic and a perfect place for her to spend some time with Julian. He was a perfect gentleman, as always, and she found herself unable to stop smiling at the thought of how wonderful it was to be with him.

It was interesting. For years she'd had a crush on Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and it was only during her third year that she came to realize the futility of chasing after him. She supposed much of her attraction to him was a result of his heroic rescue of her from Tom Riddle. From that point forward he always seemed larger than life and like a fairy tale prince. It was hard to admit he would never be her prince, however. That honor was reserved for his companion heroine, Hermione. She'd always been a bit jealous of the older girl as a result, but unlike her brother she knew the two were perfect for each other.

Julian, on the other hand, seemed rather perfect for her. He was charming, gallant, friendly, outgoing, and incredibly sensitive and caring. Really the only thing she had issue with was his almost complete lack of assertiveness. It was frustrating because she could see elements of a more forceful personality in him, but he always seemed to back off at the last minute, willing to defer to her in almost everything. The only thing he was unbending on, actually, was making sure he watched over his friends. Like her and Hermione.

She sighed. Was she being too picky? Harry was more assertive, but he was also incredibly temperamental and this crap he was pulling with Hermione was truly ill-considered and cruel. Hermione never said anything, but Ginny knew the bushy-haired prefect spent far too many sleepless nights crying over the situation between her and the man she loved.

Idiot.

She'd wonder if Harry ever paid attention in class, but considering how much his girlfriend had to do to keep him and her git of a brother from failing their classes, she didn't need to. Honestly, one would think the two bloody morons were unable to think for themselves. Mentally she slapped herself. Okay, maybe that wasn't fair. Harry was trying harder. He just wasn't listening to the things he should. Professor Spellsinger's lesson on the power of love should have clued him in to how stupid he was being. But no, he just kept ignoring his girlfriend's pain to steadfastly cling to some foolish notion of valiant self-sacrifice.

Bloody idiot.

She wished there was something she could do. Unfortunately, the only person that could do anything about this situation was the one who created it to begin with. Until Harry got off his high horse and realized what he was doing, nothing was going to change for him and Hermione. The odds of him coming to that realization on his own were nearly nonexistent, however, and she was all too aware that the only one who could probably break through to him was Hermione. It was too bad she was now avoiding him like the plague. Not that Ginny blamed her. If Julian pulled some stunt like that she'd probably slap him and give him the telling-off of his life. Then she'd avoid him.

Meanwhile her brother was going to keep playing the part of the serpent by advising Harry he was doing the right thing. Bastard. He really needed a good hexing. But she wasn't about to start picking fights with her brother this close to her last detention. Maybe later. Shaking her head, she quietly opened the door to the dorm room and sauntered in. No one was there, thankfully, so she headed over to her trunk for tonight's study session. Now that Hermione was trying to drown out her emotional difficulties, she was a harder taskmaster than ever.

Hopefully Ron was suffering as much as she was. More, even.

A soft hoot caught her attention and she started as she noticed Icarus perched on her bed. The past several weeks had resulted in a regular schedule of writing her secret admirer. She still had no idea who he was, but she was enjoying their correspondence nonetheless. They settled into a routine of write and response that resulted in almost daily letters between them. While she was learning very little concrete information about him, she was getting a good idea of what type of person he was. SA had a very dry and sarcastic sense of humour, characterized by a sharp wit that never ceased to amuse her. He was very insightful; his observations of their fellow students were mocking yet true at the same time. He seemed very romantic, and took great delight in showering her with gifts. The one time she wrote him to let him know the gifts were unnecessary, he replied that a gift was not an obligation and it was his pleasure to send tokens of his affection.

The more she got to know him, the more she wanted to know about him. Unfortunately he was quite adept at deflecting her questions and it was beginning to get truly frustrating not knowing who he was or even what house he was in. She wished they could just meet sometime.

Icarus carried another letter – the same grey vellum with the dragon seal she'd grown so fond of. Her surge of excitement was almost automatic now. He wrote her again! Carefully removing the letter from Icarus' leg, she restrained her urge to just tear it open and fed the poor owl before sitting down near the window. Carefully breaking the seal, she felt a thrill when she saw his distinctive calligraphic style.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_I dearly hope you had a nice time in Hogsmeade today. I myself spent it yearning for your presence but was unable to make my dreams of being with you a reality. The time has not come, and by your apparent actions, it appears you are no more ready than I. Tell me, my dearest, am I but a pleasant diversion to you? Or do you have genuine interest that is made cautious by reason of my anonymity? Say the word and I will return to the silent regard I had for you before._

_It was disheartening to see you with another man today, and I wonder as to your motivations. I do not accuse you of duplicity. No, I merely wonder if you do not believe me to be sincere in my expressions of affection. I assure you, everything I have said and will ever say to you is truth. Please let me know where I stand in your heart before we proceed further. I do believe Mr. Aldread does deserve more than a mere portion of your affection. As, I hope, do I._

_I wish I could reveal myself to you. I wish I could tell you everything about myself, but alas I am unable to form the words as they would shatter this pleasant illusion of mystery. Do not fear, Ginny, for one day we will meet without the masks and on that day I can only hope you will see in me what you see in my letters._

_What little can I tell you about myself without revealing all? I can tell you I am not younger than you, and have seen you in several of my classes over the past year. I have a great admiration of your incredible mind. Truly you have an amazing understanding of magic to have been advanced a year. Like many boys at the school I have an interest in Quidditch, and have admired your ability for some time. My favorite class at the moment is Defense Against the Dark Arts. I think Headmaster Dumbledore made a truly inspired choice when he asked Professor Spellsinger to teach. I like her far better than any of the other defense teachers._

_What did you think about her lesson on love? I've always found it amazing how love seems able to inspire people to do the most incredible things. Throughout history, there have been many famous couples that have done extraordinary things. Far more than she listed on her parchment. I am curious as to what you had to say in your essay._

_Enclosed with this letter is a small token of my esteem. Please take it in the spirit it is given – a gift from someone who admires you._

_SA_

Ginny sighed, holding the letter to her chest, all thoughts of her brother and his issues driven from her head. Even without the flowery complements her secret admirer sounded dreamy. She looked at the gift he sent. It was a set of silver hair combs decorated with small bits of jade. She couldn't imagine it was cheap. _He's probably wealthier than me,_ she thought. _ Yeah, that narrows it down._ Ginny reached over to her shelf and pulled out her diary. She quickly added a notation about his wealth and age in the characteristics column and sectioned off another page for gifts.

With the habit of several weeks, she pulled out her box of writing supplies and prepared to respond to his letter. That was when it hit her. _Bloody hell_, she thought. This was getting out of hand. He really did bring up a very good point. Louder than words had SA spoken his disapproval of her actions. It never occurred to her that she might be leading both him and Julian on, but she suddenly realized that was exactly what she was doing. Julian was being a complete gentleman and here she was keeping her secret admirer on the side just in case things didn't work out. The question was – did she want to let Julian down easy and take the risk that her secret admirer was everything she hoped? Or did she tell SA that she was flattered but was far more interested in pursuing a relationship with Julian?

Perhaps she should write him and let him know of her uncertainties. She knew she was going to have to talk with Julian about it sometime. It was a conversation she definitely was not looking forward to. Being the type of person he was, she got the feeling he would not understand the situation. She only hoped he would give her a chance to explain before going mental. Making up her mind to talk with him later, she decided to go ahead and write SA back. He deserved that much at least.

_Dear SA,_

_I really am sorry about not telling you sooner that I was interested in Julian. I've actually been meaning to talk with you about the situation, but I guess I never really figured out what to say. It appears now is the time._

_I'll be honest with you. I'm very interested in Julian. He's a perfect gentleman, treats me extremely well, and is thoughtful, kind and caring. It's nice that he's in Gryffindor, but I think I'd like him no matter what house he was in. Quite frankly, things might be quite different between you and I if I actually knew who you were, but as nice as the mystery is, there comes a point when two people have to set aside their fears and meet._

_I'm not sure why you are so reluctant to meet me, or at least reveal your identity. I can only assume you are uncertain as to how I will react to your identity. Please understand that I'm having problems reconciling my interest for you with my interest for Julian. I know him, and you are fortunate enough to know who I am. I wish I could say I was that lucky. It seems this is a matter of choice between the fascinating mystery man behind the letters, or the kind and caring reality before me._

_I wish I could tell you what I want to do. There are things about both of you that I truly love, but I don't know if we would get along face to face. I also don't know if Julian likes me the way I like him, and you are, well, almost a stranger. Perhaps we might meet sometime to try and work things out. I won't guarantee that meeting you will result in a fevered declaration of love on my part, but I promise I will try and give us a chance to truly know each other._

_Please let me know if this is satisfactory to you. I'm sorry I don't have a better answer, but honestly I'm very confused right now._

Ginny

Ginny rolled up the scroll and sealed it, sighing as she tied another red and gold ribbon around it. It would be so much easier if she just knew who he was. Julian was wonderful, but sometimes she really wondered if he liked her enough for a serious relationship. He spent an awful lot of time with Padma, and it twisted her gut to realize the beautiful Ravenclaw was freer to act with him since she lacked a ridiculously protective brother. What guy wouldn't find that more attractive? She shook her head. Knowing she was not going to come to a decision instantaneously, Ginny decided to go in search of Hermione and see how she was doing.

It was unfortunate that she ran into her brother before she even got out of the tower.

Ron was downstairs in the common room, pacing in front of the fireplace muttering unintelligibly about something. By the absence of his two charges she suspected he was going off his rocker trying to figure out where they were. She smirked. Maybe now would be a good time to have a bit of a chat with her brother.

"Ronald."

He whirled around. "Ginny! Have you seen Harry or Hermione?"

"No, Ron. I'm afraid neither of them is hiding upstairs in the sixth year girls' dormitory. Did you check Harry's trunk?"

He frowned. "That's not funny, Ginny."

"I think it is. Bugger it all, Ron, what is your problem?"

"My problem is that my two best friends seem to have disappeared and no one knows where they are!"

"And they've been missing, what, an hour? Maybe they just wanted to chat, Ron. Without you looming over them." She frowned at him, annoyed. "Weren't you supposed to be watching over them in case they get too friendly or something?"

"Not funny, Ginny."

She laughed. "I beg to differ. Really, Ron, what's the problem? I'm sure if something bad happened to them we'd know about it fairly quickly. Besides, the last time I saw Hermione, she was with Professor Spellsinger."

"She left," he muttered.

"What do you mean, she left?"

"I mean Harry and I went and found Hermione and Professor Spellsinger left shortly after that."

"Oh my goodness! This means you actually let Hermione and Harry alone for more than 10 seconds! How will we survive?" She pretended to swoon.

"Bugger off, Ginevra! I got tired of Hermione preaching to me about the ruddy house elves!"

"And why would she do that, Ron?"

He mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I showed her the Transfiguration Toffees. She thought the house elf one was…"

"Tasteless? I'd have to agree with that, Ron. I told Fred and George it was a bad idea to make those things."

"Yeah, well, Professor Spellsinger took them away."

Ginny was silent for a moment as she stared at her idiot brother in shock. "You're kidding me, right? You actually pulled those things out in front of her?"

"I didn't see her! She didn't exactly make a show of herself you know."

"Oh, yes, and she's oh so invisible with her bright purple robes. Bloody hell, Ron. You really are an idiot." She smirked. "Did you tell Fred and George?"

He pouted. "They laughed at me."

Ginny couldn't help but copy her older brothers' response. She didn't even try to hide her laughter and the room filled with the sounds of her glee.

"Thanks, Ginny."

"Oh bugger, Ron. You deserved it!"

"I deserved it nothing! Now someone is going to bring one of those things into the castle and I'm going to get detention for it!"

"Well that'll teach you to show pranks in front of a professor, now, won't it?"

Ron glared at her, his face nearly as red as his hair.

"Oh stop it, Ron. You got yourself into it. I guess you need to figure out something else for the twins to sell before you start spending the rest of the year in the dungeons."

"Why would I be doing that?"

She grinned evilly. "Do you really think Professor Spellsinger will want to supervise your detentions when Professor Snape would be so much more effective?"

"Oh bugger."

"Now I guess you have bigger things to worry about than the location of your best friends. I'd suggest you start thinking."

Ginny found herself hoping their absence meant they finally got back together, but she knew it was highly unlikely. It was far more likely that Harry was just keeping Hermione company and comforting her after another stupid argument with Ron. How the bloody hell could the prat think they would ever have made a good couple? They'd have killed each other within a day.

Ron suddenly cursed. "Where the bloody hell are they?"

Ginny looked up, startled at her brother's snarling comment, and then frowned. Prat. So much for distracting him with the Transfiguration Toffee fiasco. Ah well. At least she could look forward to him getting detention. Now there was an idea. A handful of the toffees in the right place would leave Harry and Hermione free of Ron's influence for at least an evening.

She would have to consider that. Maybe if she locked the two enamoured Gryffindors in a room together they'd come to a better understanding. She smirked.

"I don't know, Ron, why don't you go combing through Hogwart's to find them? We certainly wouldn't want them to be alone now, would we?"

If anything, Ron's expression grew darker. "What's that supposed to mean, Ginny? I think we should go find them."

"I'd have to disagree with you on that one, Ron. I think we should leave them alone. They need to work things out. You know, talk without your rampant hostility getting in the way. They probably went somewhere else for a while."

"Rampant hostility? What are you talking about? I'm just trying to help Harry protect Hermione!"

Okay, maybe she just needed to lock **_Ron_** in a closet for a day and see if that made things better.

Her eyes took on a cool expression. "Really? And how are you actions keeping her safe? You know Harry will be far better able to protect her if they're together. Why are you so bloody disturbed by the idea they might be alone somewhere? Despite what you are willing to admit, Ron Weasley, you know Harry and Hermione are madly in love with each other. If you were their friend at all you would step aside and leave them be while they work out their problems!"

"Well maybe I don't want them to work out their problems," he hissed. "Maybe I think they're both better off if they remain as they are."

"Oh, miserable and alone?"

"No, safe and apart!"

"That's bullshit and you know it, Ronald! You're just jealous. You can't stand the fact that Hermione is in love with Harry and because of it, you're willing to see the both of them as miserable as you're making yourself. You don't love her, Ron! You love the idea of being in love with her! You don't want Hermione for herself. You never have! You just want to beat Harry for a change and take away something he wants." She eyed him with disgust, fed up with his attitude. "Maybe you should have been in Slytherin."

Not willing to deal with her brother's pigheadedness a moment longer, Ginny stormed out of the tower, determined to foil his attempts at keeping Harry and Hermione apart.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Harry were wandering around the school thinking about each other. The two had walked back to Hogwart's together, but parted as soon as they walked through the gates. It was still far too painful for both of them to be alone together. Harry wanted so badly to run to Hermione, take her in his arms, and never let her go. But the horrifying memory of her still form at the Ministry of Magic surged to the fore and strengthened his desire to keep her safe. Today was something they both needed – time together – but it was also very painful.

Hermione made her way to a large rock near the lake to sit and think about the situation between her and Harry. From what their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor said, it seemed Harry was actually behaving rather foolishly by pushing her away. Unfortunately, there was no one alive capable of convincing him of that. Had Sirius lived, he would have been the first to slap his godson upside the head and tell him he was being an idiot. No one else, however, seemed to possess that kind of influence over the man she loved. Last year it might have been Dumbledore, but he buggered that up by keeping things from Harry. She knew he still blamed the headmaster and Professor Snape for Sirius' death.

The trio was reunited at dinner, where Ron spent his time glaring suspiciously at them. He quietly wondered what happened between them after he left, but his more rational side agreed with his sister that it was really none of his business. What was happening to him? It seemed like something occurred over the summer to drive him insane. Ginny was right. He knew Hermione and Harry loved each other. He just found he was unable to accept it. And he did want to protect the woman he loved. Voldemort would focus almost solely on her as a target if he knew how much she meant to Harry.

It was that thought which confirmed to him that he was doing the right thing. Those two needed to stay apart for their own good. Once Harry defeated Voldemort, however, he would step back and let them be happy together. He was, after all, their best friend.

Ginny eyed her brother during dinner, trying to figure out what was going on in that mind of his. She had the feeling things were headed in a very bad direction and she was afraid her brother was going to be at the heart of it. She would have to keep an eye on him. It was the least she could do for her best friend and the man who saved her life first year.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident and it was actually with a sense of relief that classes resumed on Monday. Later that week, she received a letter from SA letting her know that he was going to back off and be friends for a while – until she decided what to do about Julian. She got the impression he wasn't happy about it – not that she blamed him – but he was gracious enough to give her the chance.

If only she knew the reason.

Draco Malfoy realized as soon as he received Ginny's letter that he was in trouble. It was obvious the Aldread boy had gotten to her and she was unwilling to make a choice at this time. As much as he hated to do it, he knew backing off was the only thing he could do. Ginny would take any objection on his part very badly. Instead he decided to concentrate on making things extremely difficult for the two of them.

Blaise Zabini had taken on the task of keeping Ginny and Julian apart as a challenge. The more she observed the situation, the more she realized something needed to be done about the Weasley girl's association with the handsome Gryffindor. Thanks to the power and influence her family wielded, and her obvious alliance with Draco Malfoy, Blaise was able to persuade her fellow Slytherins that Julian was the next best target to Harry Potter. The boy was a disgusting paragon of chivalry and virtue, which made him a prime candidate for abuse and manipulation. Several Slytherin girls also decided he represented a challenge to their seductive abilities, but Blaise made it clear to all of them that she wanted him for herself. No one crossed Blaise, so they left him alone and helped in any way they could. Pansy was the only one who understood that she was trying to make Adrian Pucey jealous, and persuaded Thanos to go along with their plans. He agreed to make sure the Gryffindor golden boy was never left alone with the Weasley girl.

Ginny and SA, meanwhile, continued to correspond with each other during the next few weeks. She was relieved that her secret admirer agreed to back off and just be friends until such a time as she was comfortable deciding what she was going to do. She noticed Julian was still very hesitant around her, but she was beginning to get the impression that he was just very shy. Things might have gone a lot better between them if it hadn't been for her brother and random encounters with assorted members of Slytherin House. Apparently, they all saw Julian as the epitome of a Gryffindor and decided it was safer to pick on him than Harry. SA agreed with her.

Draco was very pleased at how things were going. At this rate, he would be with Ginny by the holiday. Aldread was starting to get very frustrated, which meant even he was not completely immune to feelings of anger. It was only a matter of time before the boy snapped. He was looking forward to it. It appeared Ginny was also getting very annoyed. He found himself smirking all day after one particularly interesting letter from her.

_Dear SA,_

_Bloody hell they've done it again! I've been trying so hard to spend some time alone with Julian to talk about things, but the damn Slytherins keep finding ways to interfere. Why the hell have they decided to start picking on him? I thought they hated Harry! Not that I want them to pick on any of my friends, but it's like they have some sort of personal issue with him. At this rate I'm never going to get to have that talk we need to._

_Thank you again for being so understanding. I'm glad you recognize how difficult this is for me. I truly like having you as a friend, but anything more is going to be a lot harder considering I've never met you. Thank you for the beautiful earrings, by the way. You really don't have to send me gifts. I'm just happy being your friend._

_Please promise me that no matter what happens with this situation that we'll still be at least friends. I couldn't bear it if I lost a friend because of all this. I really do value every letter you send and I love corresponding with you. Oh! Time for Potions. I have to go._

_Talk with you later._

_Ginny_

Ginny was relieved to find a letter waiting for her when she returned from class.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I, too, hope we can remain friends no matter what happens. I cannot see myself rejecting you just because you decide to be with another. I can't say it won't upset me, but I'll survive._

_I'm sorry to hear that the Slytherins are making things difficult between you and Julian. I wish I could tell you good luck, but I'd rather be honest and say that every moment you are not with him makes me a lot happier. My apologies, but I swore I would never lie to you._

_I have to say that it is rather interesting that they've decided to pick on him. My speculation is that they have focused on him because he is easier to get to than Potter. Slytherin House is restless these days, but I think anyone with half a brain realizes how foolish it is to mess with someone who has the direct protection of Albus Dumbledore. Even Acheron isn't that stupid._

_I can only suggest that you keep trying. Surely they can't be around all the time. Of course, then there's your brother. Is he still as annoyingly protective as always, or has he developed a life of his own? That is a man who needs a girlfriend. Should he be interested, I'm sure I could recommend a few likely candidates._

_How is your family doing these days? I see your father is adjusting well to his position as Minister of Magic. Hopefully they'll actually get around to confirming him sometime soon. I think the Ministry really needs someone like him to prevent things from getting worse than they already are. Merlin knows the quality of government has fallen to subterranean levels as a result of Fudge's mismanagement. One would think the Wizengamot would be falling all over themselves to confirm someone actually competent._

_Take care, Ginny._

_SA_

Draco reread the letter and considered erasing the last line. And the first. Why was he telling her to 'take care'? Why did he promise to stay friends with her? This was only about a bet. Wasn't it? He didn't actually care for her, did he? Bugger. Blast Hadenthor for putting him in this situation. If it wasn't for the ruddy prat, he'd be happily committed to making Acheron's life a living hell and having a great deal of fun with his not-so-secret admirers. Just this morning he got a proposition from two Ravenclaw seventh years that he was at loathe to refuse.

Wait. Why did he have to refuse them? Ginny had no idea who he was. There was no way she would ever find out what he was up to. What was stopping him? Draco shoved all thoughts of Ginny aside and headed out to Ravenclaw. It's not like they were dating. She had Aldread after all.

Why was it that he felt guilty then?

November seemed to leap upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the blink of an eye, to the incredible delight of Quidditch fans everywhere. The first Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch match, and first match of the year, was set for midweek during the second week in the month and the whole school was abuzz with anticipation as to what surprises this game would bring. Thus far no one had any idea as to the capabilities of the new teams and everyone was anxious to see what the day would happen. The fact that the first game of the year was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin just made it all the more exciting. No matter what anyone said, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw or Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff could never possibly match the anticipation of a game between the two rival houses. With new captains, mostly new teams, and the infamous rival Seekers Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, any game between them promised to be more than a little interesting.

It was to this enthusiastic anticipation that Ryselle Spellsinger found herself greeted with at breakfast on the morning of the game. Minerva and Severus had already begun their traditional glaring contest, and to her amusement, she could see the students were frantically roaming about making what appeared to be bets on the outcome of the game. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor chuckled at the blatant display of competitiveness.

"Good morning," she greeted the dark haired Potions master.

He frowned. "Good morning."

"Looking forward to the game, I see."

He snorted. "Perhaps."

"I see everyone is preparing for the Quidditch match later today."

"You have a knack for stating the obvious."

"It sounds like an interesting game."

He glanced over at her in surprise. "You have never been to one?"

She laughed. "No. I am afraid sports were not part of my grandfather's teachings."

"You poor, deprived woman," Severus said sarcastically.

"It is fortunate that I have this opportunity, then, is it not?" She grinned at him. "I do hope you will aid me in understanding the rules of the game."

He blinked. "Er… I believe I might be able to provide some explanation. What do you know of the game…?"

Ryselle was a quick study and by the end of breakfast, Severus had made sure she possessed at least a rudimentary understanding about the rules of the game. He kept it simple – nothing about Wronski Feints or Dopplebeater Defenses – but hopefully was able to impart to her enough information for her to appreciate the game. He found himself promising to sit by her and explain anything she had questions about.

As he headed back to the dungeons, it occurred to him to wonder when it was that he began feeling the need to help the new professor without question or expectation of compensation. Some Slytherin he was. Bloody hell.

The rest of the day passed quickly and soon it was time for the students and teachers to head out for the game. Hermione gave Harry a quick hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek for luck while Ron looked on, glowering, until Luna came up to him and handed him her Ravenclaw scarf. She walked away without a word, leaving him to stare after her incredulously, completely oblivious to the world around him. Ginny took the opportunity to let Julian pull her away so he could give her a beautiful pink orchid and a gentle kiss to the hand.

"Good luck, Ginny," he said, his eyes gazing into hers with adoration.

It was in that moment that Ginny made her decision. SA might be interesting, but Julian was here, a living, breathing, wonderful man who seemed to truly care for her. She could accept the fact that he wasn't incredibly assertive. Coming to think of it, lately he'd been more confident around her, which had done wonders for her attraction to him. Perhaps he simply was shy. Her face broke into a brilliant smile as she realized what she wanted, and this time she took the initiative and pulled the startled Gryffindor into a brief yet passionate kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered. It was all she could do to not chuck her broom aside and drag Julian away for a heart to heart discussion. Or lip to lip if she had her way. Still smiling, she backed away and blew him a kiss. "I'll see you after the game."

Julian stood there a few moments, gazing at her retreating form. He touched his fingers to his lips in amazement at her forwardness, and then broke into a huge grin. It was nice to know Padma's advice worked. He would have to thank her later.

"Julian! Come on, let's… are you okay?" Hermione eyed him bemusedly as she noticed his expression.

"Uh… yes. Of course, Hermione. My apologies. I was simply…"

"That's okay, Julian. I understand. I felt the same way after Harry kissed me the first time." She walked over and linked arms with him. "Let's go watch your lady kick some Slytherin butt, shall we?"

He smiled brilliantly at her. "Most certainly."

The Gryffindor Quidditch team, meanwhile, was getting their pre-game pep talk from their new captain, Warren Bishop.

"Okay, they've got a new team captain this year – Adrian Pucey. He's always been one of their better players, and from what I've seen he's been training them within an inch of their lives."

"Probably because Professor Snape threatened to use them for potions ingredients if they fail," commented Jack Sloper.

Warren frowned at the interruption, and then continued. "They'll be using top of the line brooms again this year, but their strategies have always lacked finesse. Bletchley is still Keeper, so be careful of him. He's good, but I have no doubt that we can get past him. Ginny, Alicia, Katie – keep an eye out for that new bloke, Thanos Acheron. He replaced Goyle this year and I've heard he hits hard, but is pretty weak on the accuracy. If you can, use that against them. Ron, Hadenthor is better this year, but he's still not as good on his broom as he could be. Crabbe is gone too, but Millicent Bulstrode is in his place and I've heard she's got quite the arm on her. Gage Hartley is Montague's replacement and he's actually pretty good. Watch out. Harry, I'm sure you can handle Malfoy, but make sure you watch out for Bludgers. They're going to be doing everything they can to distract you. Jack and I will do our best to keep them off of you."

The team listened avidly as he described his plans. They'd been practicing for weeks now, but now it was time to actually play. It promised to be an interesting game.

"You guys know what to do. You're the best team at Hogwart's, and I have complete faith that we will crush those Slytherin bastards into the ground. Now get out there and win!"

Pumped up by the words of their new leader, the Gryffindor team headed out to the pitch, ready to win the game.

Ryselle Spellsinger looked up curiously as the two teams jogged out to the pitch. Severus must have just finished his little pep talk; she winced to think of what he said to them, and was climbing up the stairs to the teachers' box. She tossed him a friendly wave once he reached the top of the stairs. Frowning, Severus stalked over and dropped into the seat beside her.

"Things went well, I hope."

He grunted. "We'll see. I certainly hope they can pull it off this time. I'm not sure about the Acheron boy."

"Are we on for the game, Severus?" called Minerva McGonagall to the dark haired Potions master.

"Of course, Minerva. I look forward to your house's defeat with fevered anticipation."

Her laughter could be heard by everyone in the box. "I believe it is your house we will be seeing defeated, Severus. Good luck."

"Luck to you as well, Minerva." The sour look on his face contradicted his words.

"I am assuming you have a bet?"

"Every year since I became Head of Slytherin. One bottle of aged liquour, this time brandy, against a bottle of wine from the Snape family vineyards."

Ryselle gave him a delighted smile. "I did not know your family made wine."

"My cousins, really. I do not involve myself in the business. But they send me several bottles of wine every year for Christmas."

"That sounds like my cousins on my father's side. Every year they send me the latest in fashion and art from France. I have a room full of paintings back in Romania I have no idea what to do with."

"It is the joy of family, I suppose." He turned his attention to the game.

"…**And Pucey knocks a Bludger at Ginny Weasley, preventing her absolutely perfect shot of the Slytherin goal. Tough luck, eh Ginny?"**

"Yes. I suppose it is. Goodness! Was that legal?"

"Beaters are permitted to hit Bludgers at the other team, yes. They are, in fact, encouraged to do so."

"**Eric Hadenthor has the Quaffle and is making his way toward the Gryffindor goal where Ron Wealsey is waiting. Oh! Here comes Warren Bishop, the handsome devil, and Jack Sloper, with Bludgers at the ready. Ouch! Sucks to be you, Hadenthor! Better luck next time."**

"The Slytherin team seems a lot more offensive than the Gryffindor team," observed Ryselle.

"It is a matter of style. But they both have their moments."

"I see that."

"**Thanos Acheron knocks a Bludger at Ginny Weasley and misses! Oh dear. Way to go, Acheron! I think Adrian Pucey's going to have a bit of a chat with our resident Greek stud once the game is over."**

"VALERIE HART!" Minerva McGonagall stood up and stomped over to where the Gryffindor girl was calling the match. A brief silence was followed by a loud cheer from Gryffindor.

"**And Weasley scores! Way to go, Ginny! Gage Hartley of Slytherin has the Quaffle now and is headed for the Gryffindor goal. Oh! Watch out, Ron! Sorry professor. Ouch! A hard shot to the chest knocks the Gryffindor keeper away from the goal long enough for Hartley to score. Lucky shot, eh Acheron?"**

"I see the calling of the match is less than impartial."

"That's what Minerva gets for putting one of her precious Gryffindors in the position. Last year was even worse. Lee Jordan was very biased against Slytherin."

"I wonder why?"

Snape looked at her sharply. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Ryselle met his eyes, her eyebrow raised inquisitively. "I have observed a certain rivalry between the two houses, Severus. I do not think anyone with half a brain would be blind to it. I imagine a member of your house would be no less biased."

He scowled. "Hmph."

"**HARRY SEES THE SNITCH! The Gryffindor Seeker is off, diving for the Snitch with Draco Malfoy right on his tail. Wow. Get any closer Malfoy and you'll be brushing your teeth with Harry's broom."**

"Valerie," warned McGonagall.

"**Sorry, Professor. Katie Bell grabs the Quaffle away from Eric Hadenthor and tosses it to Ginny Weasley. Go, girl! She's headed for the goal, the whole Slytherin team on her tail. Will she get there before Harry gets the Snitch?"**

"I do not see the Snitch, Severus. You said it was a small gold ball with wings, right?"

Severus nodded absently as he watched the match, urging his godson silently.

"Why is Harry diving for it if it is near the scoreboard?"

The Slytherin's eyes widened.

"**And she scores! Ginny Weasley scores with a truly impressive bit of… OH MY GOODNESS!"**

Severus looked on in horror as Harry Potter executed a perfect Wronski Feint, pulling up from his dive at the last minute to take off toward the actual Snitch. Draco was going so fast and was so close on Harry's tail that he never had a chance. Boy and broom collided with the ground as the black-haired Gryffindor flew a loop to get to the Snitch.

"**HE'S GOT IT. HARRY GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS 210 TO 50! That was an amazing bit of flying. I don't think I've seen a Wronski Feint performed that well since Viktor Krum did it in the World Cup. Way to go, Harry!"**

As the two teams landed, the pitch was flooded with students wanting to congratulate the Gryffindors and especially Harry on his amazing feat. Ginny Weasley was also a focus of the attention since she was responsible for more than half of the goals made before the Snitch was caught. She was more than pleasantly surprised when Julian pushed his way through the crowd to sweep her into his arms for a passionate kiss. Hermione flung herself at Harry, her gleeful hug just as enthusiastic as Julian's kiss. Her eyes met Harry's and she knew he wanted nothing more than to snog the sense out of her. Ron was thankfully being distracted by Luna Lovegood, who gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek, and then promptly began leading everyone in a rousing refrain of "Weasley is Our King."

Draco Malfoy came through the match with a collection of painful bumps and bruises, and a bloody nose, but nothing truly serious. A flick of Madam Pomphrey's wand fixed his nose, and she directed him to the Infirmary for a potion to treat his bruises. He ignored her to go storming back to Slytherin.

Up in the teachers' stands, Albus Dumbledore looked on with delight as his favorite students celebrated a well-deserved victory. Severus Snape looked as if he swallowed something vile, but he graciously made his way down to Minerva McGonagall to wish her and her house congratulations. Ryselle followed bemusedly, wondering if everyone in Wizarding Britain took their sports so seriously.

"It is house rivalry, my dear. Those two have been at it for years. I think it has become a thing of comfort," said Albus as he followed the youthful professor down the stairs.

"I should ask grandfather to make sure he visits Hogwart's during a match, then. I am sure he would enjoy it immensely."

"Of that I have no doubt." He smiled indulgently at the granddaughter of his oldest friend. "Perhaps you might take Severus in hand for the evening. I have no doubt he will be in a foul mood after this, and considering how happy the Gryffindors seem, I imagine tonight will be the perfect excuse for a well needed party."

"One uninterrupted by scowling Potions masters?"

"I see you have already begun to develop the wisdom of your grandfather."

She grinned. "I will see what I can do to distract him."

Albus Dumbledore watched as the beautiful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor sauntered over to the Head of Slytherin. It was interesting to watch his transformation as she touched his arm. He went from scowling fiercely at everyone in the vicinity, to focusing his attention entirely on the witch next to him. They chatted briefly, and then with a final scowling glare at the Gryffindors, he followed her back to the castle. As they passed, Albus could not help but chuckle at the baffled look on Severus Snape's face. It was obvious the young man had no idea why he was so willing to go along with Ryselle's suggestion of a peaceful evening in the Potions lab.

Now to take care of Minerva.

After much congratulations and pats on the back, the Gryffindor team made their way back to the locker room to clean up and change for the party already brewing back in the tower. Hermione and Julian waited patiently outside, discussing the latest Charms assignment. Several minutes later, Ginny, Harry, and Ron came back out.

Ginny gave Julian a huge grin and grabbed his arm upon seeing him waiting for her. With a wink, she asked him if he would escort her to put the brooms away. A glare convinced Ron to relinquish his broom, and Harry gratefully handed his to the sandy haired Gryffindor. He barely had time to mutter 'thanks' before Ginny dragged Julian away.

"That was an incredible game, Ginny. You were magnificent."

She beamed. "Thanks. I wasn't sure I was going to do well, but it seems I'm a much better Chaser than a Seeker. I'm really glad Harry's back this year."

"He performed extremely well, I must say."

"Oh, Julian! That was the most amazing flying I've ever seen him do," she gushed. "I'm not sure even Viktor Krum could have pulled that off."

"He seems quite talented"

"He is. He was the youngest Seeker in the past hundred years, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"How did that happen?"

"Malfoy was being a git as usual and took Neville's Rememberall. Harry wound up chasing him around the school for it and did some really fancy flying to catch it."

"That must have been impressive."

"Well, I wasn't there. But Ron and Hermione told me about it."

Julian nodded.

The two fell silent as they reached the shed and put the three brooms away. Ginny noticed Julian gazing admiringly at Harry's Firebolt, but decided they could talk about it later. As soon as the door was shut she grabbed him by the collar and pressed her lips to his.

Julian was startled at first, but it didn't take long for him to relax and moments later their tongues dueled after he took the initiative and deepened the kiss. She felt a surge of joy at his boldness. This was why he was in Gryffindor.

The two parted reluctantly, but neither of them wanted to be interrupted by the group of Slytherin Quidditch players they heard approaching. Grabbing her hand, Julian pulled her in the opposite direction. It was almost fun dodging the Slytherins while sneaking in a brief snog on their way back to the castle. Ginny was surprised when Julian led her away from the tower and was even more surprised when she found herself in a beautiful garden filled with flowers of all kinds. It was warm and peaceful and absolutely perfect after the chaos of the game.

She let him guide her to a small stone bench where he sat down next to her, keeping hold of her hand.

"I… I hope you don't mind us coming here first. I just… wanted… uh…"

She silenced him with a kiss. "I don't mind at all. It's beautiful."

"Your beauty outshines it all, Ginny." He gazed deeply into her soft, brown eyes. "Truly you are the pinnacle of loveliness to which all nature strives. I… it makes me speechless, sometimes, being with you and not knowing what to say. You deserve far more than I feel I am capable of providing."

"Oh! Is that why you've been so hesitant with me this year?"

He nodded. "I asked Padma for advice on how to woo you. Her best advice was that I be myself and do what I felt I wanted to do for you."

_And that explains that_, she thought. _Good_. "It was good advice. I've liked you from the beginning, Julian."

He smiled shyly at her. "And I you."

"Julian, do you…" She was silenced by his lips gently brushing hers, and nearly melted when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Ginevra Weasley…"

"Mmm hmm?"

"Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

In a flash her eyes were open and she gleefully returned his embrace. She glued her lips to his and time stopped as the two Gryffindors kissed each other passionately. It was only through the sternest application of self-control that Julian pulled away and breathlessly suggested they might want to get back to Gryffindor for the party. She deserved to be part of the celebration that she made possible.

With a whispered promise of "later", Ginny stood up and straightened her clothes. Hand in hand, they walked back to join their friends.

The post-game celebration was in full swing by the time Ginny and Julian arrived back at Gryffindor Tower. She was immediately swept away by her enthusiastic fans, and he gave her an understanding grin at her apologetic glance. She deserved the attention after the incredible job she did at the game.

Knowing she would be busy for a little while, he looked around the room for Padma Patil, hoping to have a short word with her before the news about him and Ginny spread around the school. It was largely thanks to her advice that he managed to win over the red-haired beauty and he wanted to thank her for her help.

He found her talking animatedly with her sister and Lavender Brown near the fireplace.

"Hey, Julian!" Padma tossed him a large grin. It appeared she already knew about him and Ginny. Ah well.

"Hello, Padma. Lavender, Parvati. I do hope you ladies are having a good evening."

"After kicking Slytherin's arse? You be we are!" Lavender gave him a smirk. "I bet your evening's going pretty well too."

He flushed. "Yes, it is. Thank you, Lavender."

"So where's your girlfriend?" Padma asked, trying to save him from Lavender's questions.

"She appears to be the hero of the hour and has been whisked away by her teammates." He turned to look across the room at her. By Merlin she was beautiful! He turned back. "I do believe she deserves every bit of attention and congratulations she is experiencing."

"Indeed she does. That was an amazing game! I guess we have you to thank for that, eh Julian?" Parvati winked at him.

"Er… I would say, rather, it is her one must thank. She is incredibly skilled."

"Yes, but I imagine you've been giving her quite the pep talks, eh?" Again, a wink. This time from Lavender.

"Well… uh…we… uh… I am afraid it is none of your business, Lavender. I apologize, but I will not violate Ginny's privacy."

"Oh that's okay, Julian. We know all about the letters."

"Letters?"

"Secret admirer." Another wink. "Good one. I wish I was so lucky."

"What are you talking about, Lavender?" Julian was extremely confused.

"You know. Ginny's secret admirer? She's be corresponding with him for a while now. Wasn't that you?"

He felt as if he'd just been hit by a Bludger. Secret admirer? "Er… I do not believe that is for me to say, Lavender. If Ginny wishes to tell you the contents of the letters, it is entirely up to her."

"Oh, I see. It's a secret. I get it." Did the girl do anything with her eyes except wink?

"It was a brilliant idea, though," said Padma. "I'm so glad you came up with something so romantic on your own."

"Your advice helped a great deal, Padma. I appreciate all of your help." Who was this secret admirer?

"Not a problem. I live but to help young people find their ways to love!"

"And you have quite a knack for it. If you ladies will pardon me, I have something I would like to take care of while Ginny is occupied."

They all grinned at him, thoughts of what wonderful surprise he had in store for his new girlfriend in their heads. A chorus of "Good luck, Julian" sent him off and he wandered over to where Hermione Granger sat watching the activity.

"Hi, Julian."

"Hermione."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh… of course. I… uh… was wondering if I might ask you a question."

"Sure. What is it?"

He had to phrase this carefully. Perhaps he should think about what a Slytherin would say. "Has Ginny been receiving her letters from her secret admirer lately?" He prayed her answer would be negative.

Instead she grinned at him. "Of course she has. She's been over the moon about it too. I think it's half the reason she rushes back to her room between classes. I have to say, Julian, I was truly impressed. What ever her 'secret admirer' has been writing certainly has affected her a great deal!" It was a good thing Julian learned to control his expression while his mother was ill. He knew Hermione had no idea what she was saying since she, along with everyone else in the girl's dorm, thought he was the sender of the letters. _Bugger_.

"I… uh… I'm glad to hear that. Has she… said anything about them?"

"Not really. I mean, I know she's been looking forward to them, and I imagine she wouldn't respond to them if she wasn't at least interested in what 'SA' is writing." _Please don't wink_, he thought. "I really don't think you have anything to worry about, Julian. She loves the letters and it's obvious to anyone that she loves your company. It really was a brilliant idea."

"Indeed." He stood up, fighting the dejected feelings welling up inside him.

Hermione stood up as well, looking at him with concern. "Julian. Don't worry. I know you're shy and I know Ginny's been a bit on the fence for the past few weeks, but honestly, she wouldn't have responded to your letters if she didn't like what you were writing."

Unable to stand it anymore, he gazed at her sadly. "I know, Hermione. That's the problem." Before she could respond, Julian escaped through the portrait hole, intent upon getting as far away from Ginny as possible. What the hell was she playing at? Was he overreacting? _Maybe she truly thought it was him writing the letters_, he thought. The answer to that question came in the form of a conversation they had about a few weeks ago. She was trying to figure out if he was her secret admirer, he realized. But why did she respond to it when she found out it wasn't him? Or worse, why did she continue the correspondence beyond a polite response?

He knew he was doing something wrong with Ginny several weeks ago. They'd hit it off at the beginning of the year, but he honestly had no idea where to go from there. Perhaps he should have asked her, but he'd always been taught that a woman was to be treated like a lady, which meant not worrying her with one's personal confidence issues. He'd thought about asking Hermione for advice, but she seemed rather busy with her studies and whatever was happening between her and Harry. He had no desire to add to her problems. Lavender was a no since she and Parvati were the biggest gossips in school, and he honestly didn't feel terribly comfortable with the other Gryffindor girls as he hardly knew them.

Padma had been his study partner for Herbology and it only seemed logical to ask for her help. She'd been very nice about it – no laughing or condescending looks. Instead she recommended a few good books from the library, and then gave him a few simple words of advice.

"_Be yourself. We don't want to fall for a lie and it will always be bad if a woman finds out. Always pay attention. That's one of the most important things you can ever learn about women. We say a lot of things, but what we do in many ways is far more telling of how we truly are. If you pay attention, you can learn to read a woman just by watching what she does and how she acts. But you have to listen as well. Most women will talk about almost everything, and somewhere in there we include useful information about ourselves. You should be able to find out so much about her just from listening to her talk. And most importantly, treat her as an equal. Women like Ginny do not take kindly to be treated as if they are fragile little specimens of femininity. This does not mean they never want romance, but they do want to be treated like you actually value what they do and say."_

He thought on it and realized she was correct. For the next few weeks he'd watched and listened. To his amazement, he learned all sorts of interesting things about Ginny. From Dean he learned her favorite flower was the orchid. From Ron he learned that her favorite meal was her mother's roasted turkey. Hermione confided that she loved the color green, and that emeralds were her favorite gemstone. Harry mentioned that she loved Quidditch, not that he doubted it, and that she was a huge fan of the Silver Arrows. That bit of information provided a common interest, and from there it was a matter of time before he felt confident enough to begin the wooing process.

But perhaps he'd been too late. Perhaps she already decided she was not interested in him. But if that were true, why didn't she just tell him to bugger off instead of giving him the best snog of his life? Did he do something wrong? Why didn't she mention this secret admirer of hers?

Bloody hell.

"Aldread?" The startled Gryffindor whirled toward the sound, wand at the ready.

"Who's there?"

One of the shadows moved and Blaise Zabini stepped out into the light. Her dark hair glittered in the torchlight while her deep, blue eyes bored into his. She eyed him disdainfully. "What are you doing here?"

"Thinking. I apologize if I disturbed you." He looked around and came to the realization that he was in a part of the castle unfamiliar to him.

"No. You didn't disturb me. I was just…" She choked back a sob. "Thinking."

Seeing the tears flood her eyes, he stepped forward. "Are you okay, Blaise?"

She instinctively brought her own wand up, but then lowered it as she realized the handsome Gryffindor was only reaching out to comfort her. It was all she could do not to dance with glee. Sentimental idiot.

She sniffed. "Do I look okay? I'm sitting her in a random corridor with a bloody Gryffindor, weeping over the perfidy of certain Slytherin bastards! What makes you think I'm not okay?"

"I apologize. I was simply…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. Perhaps it would be better if I left."

Bugger! She wasn't expecting this. "Uh… no! That's… that's okay, Julian. I'm sorry. I should be the one with the apology. I shouldn't have bit at you for being kind."

He shook his head. "It's all right, Blaise. I suppose I should not have said anything." He smiled at her wryly. "You are, after all, a Slytherin."

She smiled back. "And you are, after all, a Gryffindor. One who has strayed quite far from what I understand was a victory party. Maybe I should be asking you if you are okay."

"I… you do not need to be burdened with my problems. Why don't you tell me why you are sitting in some random corridor with a bloody Gryffindor weeping over the perfidy of certain Slytherin bastards?"

She pretended to consider for a moment, and then nodded.

"Have a seat, then, and I'll tell you." She waited until Julian was leaning up against the castle wall next to her before spinning her tale of woe and sadness. Hopefully it would be enough to get him to talk with her about the Weasley girl. She sighed dramatically. "I suppose it's pretty simple, really. I've had my eye on one of the guys in Slytherin for a while now. Unfortunately, my parents betrothed me to someone else when I was younger and until recently, it wasn't possible for me to even consider being with him. Well, my fiancée apparently decided to withdraw his suit a couple days ago, thank Merlin, and so I thought maybe Adrian and I could get together after all." Another dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately it appears he is no longer interested in me now that I'm actually attainable. And when I think of all the things he promised…"

She was surprised when Julian gently took her hand and patted it. "Perfidy is right. I'm sorry to hear your love has rejected you." He sighed. "It appears to be an epidemic, I suppose." His gentle eyes met hers. "He is a fool, Blaise, if he cannot see what stands before him. I am sure he will come to regret not snatching you up when he had the chance. Has he already devoted himself to another?"

She shook herself out of the shock produced by his romantic drivel. Love? "Uh… no. Not as of yet. I… he just won't talk to me! I tried to tell him the engagement was off but he refused to even listen to me. And Malfoy, that bastard, refuses to tell him that I'm no longer unavailable." She looked down and pretended to try and hide the tears in her eyes. "My parents are going to insist that I marry someone else, like Nott or Hadenthor, and any chance of being with someone I choose will be gone!"

"Why do you have to marry someone at all? Aren't you a bit young for all that?"

Was he a total idiot? "I come from a very old pure-blood family, Julian. It's tradition for us to be engaged on our sixteenth birthdays and married upon graduation from school. I honestly never expected to marry someone I could love, but I always hoped…" _Let him fill in the blank_, she thought.

"Oh dear. I can't imagine what that must be like. I'll admit, I'm from a pure-blood family as well, but we have always been given our choice of spouses. My mother was always a firm believer in a marriage based on love."

Blaise fought not to show her disgust. What about money and power? Bloody Gryffindor. "That must be wonderful. I would love to have the freedom to choose whom I spend the rest of my life with."

"Well that's the way it should be. I honestly would hate to think that my bride was being forced to marry me for my money or familial influence."

At that Blaise perked up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, a long time ago we had similar traditions, but after my great grandfather of about six generations ago made our fortune, he decided we no longer needed to dance to the tune of the old and tired practices. He was sickened by his own marriage to a woman he describe as an 'insufferable harpy' and determined his son would never suffer the same fate. Thus we are required to marry as soon as we can, but we have the choice of whom it is."

She looked at him in amusement. "I honestly never thought I would see a pure-blood with any sort of wealth actually get into Gryffindor."

He chuckled. "You do realize that Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, right?"

"Oh. Right. I guess I… forgot about him. You have to admit it's rare, though. I mean, the Weasleys were all Gryffindors but…" she made a face, "really, does it count that they are pure-bloods?"

He frowned at her. "That is terribly uncharitable, don't you think? Their wealth, or lack thereof, has very little to do with what house they belong in."

"But you have to admit there's no way they'd ever be in Slytherin."

"True. But think about the ideals behind your house – cunning, power, ambition. I should honestly think someone without wealth would be perfect. They would need those traits to raise themselves up beyond their current position. I would speculate that my great grandfather would have been a very good Slytherin."

"But you're certainly not."

"No. I was raised to be chivalrous and more concerned with helping others. Which, I do believe, is in my nature anyway."

"But doesn't it bother you sometimes? I mean, I've never been able to understand why you Gryffindors just keep on helping and helping – risking everything for a bunch of people that don't care."

He shrugged. "It's the right thing to do. I cannot explain it, Blaise, I just know that I need to help others because they need it. Like certain beautiful Slytherin women lurking in random corridors."

She laughed. "With bloody Gryffindors, don't forget." She studied him. "So why are you out here in this random corridor?"

"You mean besides listening to a certain Slytherin about her woes?"

"Yes."

"Uh… I was thinking."

"About?" she prompted.

"About something I should not talk with anyone about."

"Oh come on, Julian. I've sat here spilling my heart out to you. The least you can do is return the favor. It's probably the only time in my life I'll ever have a Gryffindor urge." Hopefully he would fall for that blatant manipulation.

He laughed. "That's a good point." Julian paused for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. "I guess I was upset because I found something out about my new girlfriend this evening."

She raised an eyebrow. "I can't imagine what that could possibly be. Especially if she's from your house."

"She is. She was just… you're going to think it foolish."

This time she took his hand. "No, Julian. I won't. You need to talk about it to someone." She actually found herself feeling sorry for the poor sod. Maybe she'd show him a good time before getting with Adrian to make it up to him. Merlin knew his little Gryffindor bint wouldn't be able to.

"I… We got together this evening. As in decided to start dating as boyfriend and girlfriend."

_Ew. Malfoy's going to hate that,_ thought Blaise.

"Everything was going well," he blushed at the memory of their kiss afterwards, "but then we went back to the tower and I found out something I was not very happy about."

"And that was?" On task, boy. On task.

"Apparently, all this time that we've been trying to get together and getting to know each other, she's been exchanging love letters with a secret admirer."

"Ah. I know who you're talking about. You mean you didn't know about that?"

"What? How did you know?"

"Oh come on, Julian. I'm a Slytherin. We know everything. She's been getting them for a while now."

"So I've heard. What I don't understand is why did she reply back to begin with? Or why didn't she stop when we started getting closer? From what it sounds like, this is not just a pen pal type of situation. But… how do I know?"

"Julian, most women don't send pen pals letters sprayed with their perfume. I hate to say it, but I think this is exactly what it looks like."

"I thought we were getting along so well. What happened?"

"Hmm. Do you want an honest or diplomatic answer to that?"

"Honesty is best, please."

"Okay, you asked for it." She gazed at him seriously. "Julian. From what I understand, you've been a bit hesitant about your interest in Ginny, right?"

"I wouldn't say hesitant. I'm just… inexperienced."

_Not to mention pathetic_. "Ah. And shy, I bet. Well, some women take that to mean you're not too hot on the interest. I imagine she was not completely sure about you when she started writing this admirer of hers."

"Yes, but why didn't she tell me about him? And why did she keep writing him once I made my intentions clear?"

Blaise shrugged carelessly. "She was probably keeping her possibilities open. You know. Have the secret admirer on the side in case things didn't work out with you."

He sputtered indignantly. "She… Ginny wouldn't do that!"

"Really? Then why did she keep writing him after your little trip to Hogsmeade?"

"I… How do you know that?"

She smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways, Julian. Look. It's up to you what you do about this, but do you think she's going to stop writing him?"

"Maybe they're just friends…"

"Right. And maybe I'm going to marry Harry Potter. Come on, Julian. Get a clue. She likes the attention. She likes the gifts. And she likes knowing that there's someone to fall back on if she gets tired of you." Blaise stood up and turned to leave. "Tell me, what's going to happen when she meets this guy after having spent so much time swooning over his flowery words?" His stricken look was all the confirmation she needed that his thoughts were right where she wanted them. It was time to leave. "Thanks for the talk, Julian. Good luck."

Julian was shocked by her harsh words, but he had to admit she posed a very valid point. From what Hermione said, this secret admirer's letters affected her far more than anything he himself had done from the beginning. Everyone said so. No one complimented the beautiful flowers he got for her the other day or the gallant treatment. Their trip to Madam Puddifoot's didn't matter in light of the wonderful letters from a man with no known identity. The fact that she'd been difficult to get to warm up to him perhaps spoke louder than words for the future of their relationship. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

What gifts?

Julian headed back to Gryffindor, sticking to the shadows in case one of the professors was out patrolling. He had no desire to be caught out past curfew by Professor Snape especially, now that he knew the man's hatred for his house. He fortunately reached the tower without incident, and quietly snuck in to join the party still in full swing. He decided it would be better to talk with Ginny after he had some time to think.

At eleven o'clock, Hermione and a very reluctant Ron began pushing people upstairs and shutting down the party. Ginny rushed over to give him a quick kiss before her brother ordered her to bed, and Julian joined the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors as they trekked upstairs. Sleep was a long time in coming.


	10. A New Hope

Okay guys, sorry about the false alert. I accidentally posted the wrong chapter. Here is the correct one. It should answer some of the quesstions you might have.

Thanks for reading and reviewing. And once again, cheers to Vaughn for proofreading.

* * *

Hermione sighed and put down her quill. For once she wasn't in the mood to study. It was odd, but ever since Harry told her he refused to be with her for her own protection, she had actually been more upset than when she thought he didn't love her. _Why did he have to be so bloody noble_, she wondered. She knew why, of course. It was the way he was. He felt the need to protect people, and the more important they were to him, the more he needed to protect them. He still blamed himself for Sirius' death and until he dealt with that, things were going to remain at an impasse.

Then there was Ron. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He'd been acting rather odd lately, even more so than during the summer. It didn't make sense. He knew she loved Harry, and despite what he said earlier, he knew Harry loved her. Sure, Ginny said Ron supposedly had a crush on her, but she figured he was over it by now. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was actively trying to keep her and Harry apart. What kind of justification could he possibly have for that?

Take a few weeks ago, for example. Ginny mentioned that Ron threw a bit of a fit when Harry and Hermione didn't come directly back to Gryffindor from Hogsmeade. After Professor Spellsinger left, Harry insisted upon staying with her – not that she minded – and they roamed around from store to store, chatting and enjoying each other's company. They hadn't planned it. And it certainly didn't change how things were between them. Upon returning to the school, Harry went off on his own while Hermione went to the Library. She wanted to follow him, but she recognized that closed look. It meant things were not going to change between them. Since then, she and Harry have been more distant than ever.

She sighed. She was really getting tired of the distance between her and Harry, and the annoying behaviour of Ron. Fortunately he was currently serving a detention with Professor Snape after trying to hex Malfoy in the hall last night. Today was not the day she was in the mood to deal with him.

Ginny could keep herself occupied, she knew, so she decided to ask one of the house elves to pack her a sandwich. The Quiddich field would be unoccupied this time of day and she felt the need for solitude.

_That's it,_ she thought, _I'll go back out to the Pitch._ It was quiet there and she could really use some more alone time. Harry was not back from his training with Professor Spellsinger yet and probably wouldn't be for a while. Ron was off doing something by himself, and Ginny was in her dorm writing her secret admirer again. She quickly gathered her things and headed outside, making sure to bundle up against the winter cold. The day was slightly overcast, matching her mood, but there were bright patches of sunlight here and there making things less gloomy. It was already December and they were expecting it to snow any day now. She climbed up to the Gryffindor section and settled down to think in peace.

It was then that she noticed Harry.

He was on his broom, flying high overhead doing things that made her stomach lurch just thinking about them. She knew it was him. She'd been watching him play Quiddich since their first year and knew instinctively how to identify him at long distances. _He must be upset,_ she thought. It occurred to her that their separation was no easier on him. He had said he loved her after all. But Harry would sacrifice anything to keep his loved ones safe, including his own happiness.

This was why she loved him.

He cared for her, more deeply than she ever imagined, and from what she remembered, always had. Their first year, he was the one who led the crusade into the loo to rescue her from the Troll. While he may have found her tendency to lecture annoying, he always seemed to value her opinion. She had been incredibly flattered when he told her she was one of the greatest witches he knew. It warmed her to think of how he always seemed to know what to say to her to make her feel better. It got hard, these past few years. Harry had grown more defensive and distant. As a result, she had become fussier and had a tendency to lecture him more than she should. She worried about him, and wanted to find a way to help keep him safe. Unfortunately, it seemed the only way she could help many times was to nag him to do the responsible thing.

She tried to stand by him when she could, and did everything in her power to help him even when it meant breaking the rules. She felt horrible about what happened to Sirius. She had a feeling things were not right, but she couldn't articulate to him why she felt the situation was wrong. There was no way she would have let him go alone, however. Not only was she his best friend, but she loved him more than he would probably ever know.

Her eyes followed him as he flew. He reminded her of an eagle. Protective, proud, and in need of freedom. She wanted to protect him, but did not want to smother him. It was a struggle for her sometimes. He frustrated her with his behaviour, especially over the past year, and her natural reaction was to try and take control of the situation in order to make things right. Maybe that was the worst thing she could do. Thinking about it, she noticed a pattern. As he got older, he became more stubborn and more rebellious. Last year was a prime example. His movements were controlled so much by Headmaster Dumbledore that Harry came to disregard everything the man ever told him by the end of the year. Harry worked better if he knew what was going on. It was his nature. He needed to know why his freedoms were being restricted; why he couldn't see his godfather; why the Ministry tried to make him look insane. No one told him that. Things cascaded until there was no one capable of stopping the runaway situation. Not even her.

She refused to allow what happened between them to dominate their relationship. They were still best friends. She had feared something like this, she remembered, when she had been thinking about telling Harry how she felt. Now that they were estranged, it was far worse than she imagined. It was partially her fault. She had been reluctant to be around Harry because it hurt so much. But now she had to admit it hurt more not to be near him. They really needed to work things out.

Harry's broom took a sudden nose-dive startling Hermione out of her reverie. She gasped as he dove for the ground, stopping mere feet away from the center of the field. He looked up at her, expressionless, and then headed her direction. Gulping with dismay, she put her wand away and prayed he would not be too angry. She honestly hadn't come out here expecting to see him.

She heard him come up the stairs, but couldn't bring herself to turn around and face him. She stared at the sky instead, hoping he would speak first. Her mind was having difficulty finding the right thing to say to him. She felt him sit next to her.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Harry?"

"Uh, I guess we need to talk. Don't we?"

"It might be an idea."

He was silent a moment. "Look, I'm sorry things haven't been doing too well between us. I know I hurt you, but I had hoped you would understand…"

"I understand, Harry. I just don't agree with you."

"It's for your own protection."

"And your piece of mind, I know, Harry. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

She felt his smile. "True. But I had hoped it would not make things so…difficult between us. I miss you, Hermione. I miss you a lot."

Facing him, she smiled. "I miss you too. I just… I guess it's just been a bit difficult to deal with. No, let me finish, Harry. For the past year I was convinced you didn't love me. I thought you didn't know I existed. I always figured you'd wind up with someone like Cho and never give me a second glance. I would remain your best friend forever, but that would be all." She fiddled with her hands. "I was okay with that, don't get me wrong. I never imagined you could love me, or that things would turn out the way they have. I never planned on telling you, you know. I didn't want it to harm our friendship."

"But it has. Hasn't it?"

She sighed. "Maybe a little. But I think that comes more from the hurt of being apart than anything else. I love you, Harry, and I want to be with you. No matter what the risk. But I understand that you feel the need to protect me from Voldemort and his lackeys." He snickered at her terminology. She'd been hanging around Ginny a lot. "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll never stop being my friend, and that after Voldemort is gone, you will stop being so distant."

"That's two things, you know."

She laughed at his Malfoy-like smirk. "Two then! Promise?"

"I… I promise, Hermione. I just…" He found it difficult to think about the future with the prophecy looming over his head. He had to remind himself she didn't know.

She touched his shoulder. "What is it, Harry?"

"I…" He found the words stuck in his throat. Hermione was the last person he wanted to tell about the prophecy. He knew she would stand by him, no matter what happened. But he didn't want to hurt her. Harry sighed. If there was anyone he wanted to share this with, it was Hermione, but he also didn't want to overload her with his problems. He wasn't sure how she would react to the contents of the prophecy.

Hermione saw him hesitate, and forced herself not to be upset. She knew he had a lot on his mind and didn't want to push him. Perhaps he still wasn't ready. She looked down in disappointment.

She flinched when he touched her face with his hand, raising it to eye level. "Hermione," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "I don't want you to think that I don't trust you. That's not it at all. It's just that…Dumbledore laid some pretty heavy stuff on me last year, and with Sirius'…death…I wasn't really prepared to hear it."

She smiled, briefly holding his hand to her face. "Please, Harry. Let me help…"

He smiled faintly, making a decision. It was time. "Okay. I'll tell you…"

Harry began at the beginning, telling her about his dreams and the training he underwent with Professor Snape. She listened intently as he spoke in detail of everything he saw, and the dreams that lead to his entry into the Ministry of Magic. It was like a balm to his soul, finally telling her the truth about everything that had happened last year. He'd hated lying to her, but he found himself doing it to avoid her lectures. It was wrong he knew, but last year had been different than any other year. His tolerance for many things was very low, and unfortunately his relationship with his friends suffered as a result. It seemed she understood, however. His emotions almost broke free as he spoke of the fight with Voldemort and his Deatheaters, and the death of Sirius Black. He paused for a moment to regain his composure. Warmth flowed through his body as she took his hand.

"It's okay, Harry. Take your time," she said softly.

"The short of it, Hermione, is that when the final confrontation comes, it will be either me or Voldemort. Only one of us will live." Harry closed his eyes, seeing the prophecy burned in his mind.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. _

_born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . _

_and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ._

_and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives .'"_

He opened his eyes and gazed at her. "So you see, Hermione. I have to kill him or be killed myself."

"You always knew that Harry. You know he's not going to give up until he kills you and takes over the Wizarding world or dies trying."

"You don't understand, Hermione! To beat him… that means I have to become a murderer. Just like him!"

Suddenly she understood. Harry was a very compassionate person with a very strict code of honor in many ways. He bent the rules, but would always hesitate when the situation called for him to harm another. Neville told her what happened with Bellatrix Lestrange after Sirius died. She was quite honestly shocked Harry was even capable of such a thing. It was a sign of how far he had been pushed. Harry always felt killing was wrong. And now he was being told that he either had to kill another living being – she refused to call him human – or die. Not an easy burden.

"No, Harry. Not just like him. He kills for sadistic pleasure and to terrorize others. You will be doing what is necessary to preserve the lives of people throughout the Wizarding world. Killing in defense of others is not good, but it's not evil either."

"How can I live knowing I had to take another life?"

She looked into his eyes. It hurt her to see the pain clouding the emerald depths. "Because you will remember that doing so saved Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, Neville, Colin, Hagrid, and countless other Wizards, Muggles, and half-bloods you will never know." Her eyes caught his. "And me. You'll be saving me as well, Harry, if that means anything."

"It means everything, Hermione. But how…" he choked as the words caught in his throat. "How can you love me if I…"

She placed her fingers on his lips. "Shh. Harry, I will always love you. No matter what. You want to be apart from me for my protection? So be it. I will accept that because I love you. If you want me to go away because you need to be alone I will. Because I love you. I will always be here for you and I will always be your friend. Even if you decide you want to be with someone else. I will always love you. Never forget that."

Hermione wanted nothing more than to kiss him and do everything in her power to make all his fears go away. She feared for him. She loved him. And she wanted to see him happy more than anything in the world. Their separation was hurting him as much as it hurt her. There was no way she was going to let it continue.

"Harry. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I… I guess it just hurt too much. But I think it actually hurts more to be apart from you. Maybe we should try to get back to being friends at least?"

He smiled, and in his eyes she could see a hint of happiness. "There's nothing I want more, Hermione."

"Good. Then we should probably go study for Snape's test tomorrow." She stood up.

He laughed at the purely Hermione response.

"Hermione."

She turned back, curiously.

"That's not completely true. There is something I want more, but it's going to have to wait until after I defeat Voldemort."

Joy suffused her face as she realized what he was saying. "I look forward to it, Harry."

Hearts lighter, the two Gryffindors headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Ron was very unhappy when he came back from Detention later that evening to find Harry and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room studying. It wasn't the fact that they were studying that bothered him. He didn't like the way they seemed more relaxed around each other and kept smiling at each other. Weren't they estranged? He thought the whole point of their separation was to keep Hermione safe. What was Harry thinking? Did he honestly think he could protect her from Voldemort? If he truly loved her he would be willing to do anything to protect her. After all, he was. Despite the fact that it hurt him to see his friends unhappy.

Hermione looked up from her book finally noticing his presence. He tried not to feel offended by her indifference.

"Hey guys. What are we studying?"

Harry grimaced. "Potions, what else? You do remember that we have a test tomorrow, right?"

"Uh, yeah, of course. I was on my way up to get my books now!"

"That's good, Ron. Merlin knows you really need to study."

Ron turned to frown at his sister. She had gotten a lot more belligerent since the "incident" this summer. "Thanks, Gin, I appreciate the moral support."

"You don't need moral support, Ron, you need someone to pound knowledge into that thick skull of yours." _Not to mention other things_, she thought.

"Ginny, be nice. Ron, go get your books. There's plenty of room for all of us to study. Harry, scoot over so Ron can fit his stuff at the table."

He grinned impishly at her. "Yes, mum."

Ginny chuckled at the glare Hermione threw him. She could almost match her mother for disapproving looks.

Ron came back down a few minutes later with his study materials and unhappily seated himself next to his sister. Ginny had taken the empty spot next to Hermione deliberately and left the end seat for her brother. She wasn't about to have their studies interrupted by Ron's antics around Hermione. That was the last thing they needed.

Ron glowered at his sister. He knew she set him at the end of the table on purpose. For years she had been trying to get Harry and Hermione together, and she didn't appear to be willing to stop. Sometimes she really annoyed him.

The four Gryffindors sat in silence for a while, intent on their studies. Harry and Hermione still cast each other the occasional glance, but both were trying to keep on task. Ron pretended to read while he tried to figure out a strategy to get Hermione alone. He wanted to make sure she and Harry didn't take things farther than they'd already gone. By their behaviour he guessed they'd made up, but were not dating as of yet. It was only a matter of time, however. He idly wondered if Malfoy would be willing to trade patrols with him.

Hermione's reminder bell started jingling abruptly, startling them all. She leapt up. "Oh! I have patrol tonight. I'll see you guys later. Tomorrow I imagine since you all need to get to bed for the match tomorrow." She quickly stuffed her books into her leather pack. "Ginny, would you mind taking this up for me? Thanks. G'night!"

_Hermione seemed entirely too cheerful for going on patrol with Malfoy_, thought Ron. _You'd think she was going to be spending the evening with Harry_. He frowned as she gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. He waited a few moments for the portrait to close before glaring at Harry.

"What was that all about?"

"What?"

"That… display. I thought you were staying away from her for her own protection. What the bloody hell are you thinking? I thought you loved her!"

"Ron…"

"Shut it, Ginny. How can you do this?"

"Be her friend, Ron? Is that a problem? I never said I would stop being her friend."

"You certainly haven't been acting like one!"

"Look who's talking!"

"I said shut it, Ginny! How the hell is it that you can ignore her for bloody weeks and she still moons over you like you're the greatest thing since the library."

"Ron, she understands why I've been acting the way I have, and I know why she's been acting the way she has. We decided we're not going to stop being friends just because we're unhappy about our situation."

"When did you decide this?"

"When we chatted earlier today."

"Oh, and you decided to leave me out of it?"

"What does it have to do with you, Ronald?"

"Ginny, I said…"

"Shut it, Ron. You can just bugger yourself if you think I'm going to stay quiet while you try and get Harry to stay apart from the woman he loves!"

"Ginny, we're just going to be friends for now."

"That's stupid, Harry, but I know that's what you decided."

"Without me, I might add."

"Ronald, the universe does not revolve around you! This is between them!"

"Since when? I thought we were friends!"

"We are, Ron." Harry seemed to be getting annoyed.

"Since you started trying to keep them apart, that's when."

"Ginny! Ron, Hermione and I just talked, that's all. We can do that without you there you know. Just like I can talk with you outside Hermione's presence. I thought you would be happy that we're getting along better."

"I… I am, I guess. I just…" Ron found it hard to explain exactly what he was feeling. He felt betrayed that his friends had come to such a momentous decision without him, but he also knew it was irrational. He should be happy they were friends again. He seriously didn't know what had come over him. Ever since the summer he had been really sensitive. "I'm sorry, Harry. I am glad you too made up. Now we can get back to being the great friends we've been for the past five and a half years."

Harry grinned. "Look out Hogwarts!"

They all laughed.

Meanwhile Hermione was walking into Professor McGonagall's office to meet Malfoy for their patrol. She had to admit that the idea of pairing prefects from different houses up was inspired. It helped keep the favoritism down.

Malfoy was already waiting will ill-disguised impatience. She had a feeling it was not an uncommon occurrence. She refused to be intimidated, however. She was on time, so he could just relax.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Good to see you made it. I do hope you and Mr. Malfoy can set aside your differences for this one night."

"Of course, Professor." Hermione refused to neglect her Prefect's duties just because she was being paired with the biggest prat in school.

"I look forward to it, Professor." Malfoy looked as emotionless as a snake. _How appropriate_, thought Hermione.

"Well then, here is your route. I'm told these places here are problem spots, as are the assorted closets. Make sure you pay extra attention to Filch's location. The students have gotten very good at predicting where Filch will be, so be sure to check opposite his patrol."

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. Then off with you. I want to see you back here at midnight with a full report."

Draco and Hermione quickly left the room, intent on their duties. By unspoken accord they headed off to the most likely problem area – a closet on the other side of the school from Filch. They patrolled in silence, Hermione not knowing what to say to the Slytherin and Draco not interested in talking to the Mudblood. He hated the fact that she was his chosen partner. Why couldn't he have gotten someone else? Like Cho Chang. At least she had a killer body to go along with that overworked brain. He supposed this was McGonagall's way of trying to get him to be more tolerant. Not bloody likely.

"Malfoy."

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

"Do I hear what?"

"Shut up and listen for a moment."

He shot her a glare, but remained silent. It was barely audible, but he could hear the faint sound of voices coming from up ahead. Were those moans? _Granger must have the ears of a bat_, he thought. They were in one of the areas identified as problems by McGonagall. Draco could see why. The corridor was riddled with doors and dark alcoves perfect for a pair of misbehaving students to hide. He would have to remember this place. It might come in handy after he persuaded Ginny to go out with him. Whoa! Where did that come from? He almost slapped himself for what he was thinking. She was a Weasley. How could he possibly find her at all attractive? _Because she's an amazingly beautiful and incredible woman, that's why_. The only reason he avoided slapping himself that time was because Granger was present. He couldn't believe what he was thinking. _Bet. It's just a bet. I must be getting sick or something_.

"Malfoy?"

"What!"

"You alright?"

"What's it to you, Granger?"

"Sorry. I just thought you looked a bit… odd, that's all."

"Keep your pathetic observations to yourself, Mudblood. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Fine." He noticed a cold distance had replaced the concerned look in her eyes. He was almost impressed.

"Shall we surprise our friends in the closet there?"

"Of course. They are out after curfew after all."

"Of course. You would never do something like that," he muttered. "Bloody hypocrite."

Hermione ignored him.

The door was locked, but that was not an issue for someone like Hermione. With a wave of her wand the door clicked and Malfoy yanked it open. They were both surprised to find Cho Chang and Thanos Acheron in an incredibly compromising position. Malfoy thought Christmas came early this year. It was all he could do not to toss the Slytherin boy a sadistic grin.

"Out of the closet, both of you." Hermione was all business. She ignored the hostile glare from Cho Chang. The little bint could bugger off for all she cared.

"Yes, Thanos, out of the closet. Do hurry." Draco's silvery eyes glinted with an evil light. "You might want to give her back her shirt."

The Ravenclaw Seeker switched her glare to Draco Malfoy who responded with a smirk. She almost ripped the shirt in her haste to put it on.

"Now, I guess this means detention for the both of you as well as the loss of, oh how many points should we take away, Granger?"

Hermione was surprised Draco was even asking her. Especially since Thanos was from his house. "50. Each. I think would be sufficient along with the detention, Malfoy. What do you think?" Two could play the polite game.

"Hmmm… I suppose that would be fair. Oh, you have something to add Mr. Acheron?"

Thanos glared silently at the Slytherin Prefect but knew he could do nothing. "No, Mr. Malfoy."

"Good. What about you Miss Chang? Any weepy stories you'd like to relate?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy."

"Ooh, I rather think that might be worth a few more points, eh Granger?"

"Leave it alone, Malfoy. You know they've been punished enough." He thought he saw a slightly sadistic gleam in her eye as she continued. "However, I do think it's important they need to learn this lesson as quickly as possible. I would suggest the detention be with Professor Snape. He's good about getting the point across."

She must really despise the Ravenclaw tart. "I must agree on that point. Very well, you two will report to Professor Snape tomorrow night for detention. I think this little escapade is worth, oh, say two weeks?"

He was somewhat surprised when Hermione didn't object.

"Now then. I suggest you two little buggers get off to your rooms. We'll be checking up on you so no side trips." With one final glare at the two prefects, Cho and Thanos headed off to their respective Houses. Draco waited until they were out of sight to display his smirk.

"That wasn't very nice, Granger. You know Professor Snape hates Thanos. I don't think he'll be in for a good time."

"Detention isn't supposed to be fun, Malfoy," the Gryffindor responded primly.

"True. Well now, I guess this means our next patrol will go a lot better."

"Why do you say that?"

"Precedence, my dear. The word will get out that you and I were very tough on the miscreants and that will discourage those who think they would get off easy due to our house rivalries."

"Ah. Well, I have to admit I was surprised you were so willing to punish Thanos."

Draco snorted derisively. "Trust me, Granger. If had been just me he'd probably be doing a lot worse."

"I see."

"You didn't seem to thrilled with Miss Chang yourself."

"She should know better. She's a bloody seventh year for Merlin's sake. It's up to her to serve as an example to all those younger girls that worship the ground she walks on. Getting caught making out in a closet is not the best image to project."

"At least it's an honest one. She's always been a bit of a tart. I've caught her a number of times."

"I never heard about that!"

He smirked. "Neither did anyone else. You really think she came by that squeaky clean reputation honestly. Please. She paid quite dearly for it. I guarantee it."

"I can't believe Harry was interested in her." Or at least that's what Draco thought she muttered.

"Maybe he was after a bit of excitement in his life. Of a different sort than he's used to."

"Malfoy! Harry's not like that. He honestly thought she was very different!"

"Let me tell you a secret, Granger. No one is who they seem to be. We all have secrets. Even your precious Harry Potter."

Her glared was truly impressive this time. "Shut it, Malfoy. Harry doesn't keep secrets from me."

"Really?" His voice oozed skepticism.

"Really. Or at least, not forever. He tells me when he's ready to do so."

"You prove my point, Granger. Even Potter has secrets from you for a time. I wonder what it is he doesn't tell you…"

"Bugger yourself, Malfoy."

"Touchy. Don't worry, Granger. I'll stop. We do have to finish our patrol after all."

They continued on, but Draco could tell Granger was caught up thinking about what he said. _Perfect, he thought, anything I can do to disrupt the Dream Team is a good thing._ Keeping them distracted and off balance would make it far less likely they would discover his plan to get Ginny to the Ball. He knew the Granger girl had a lot of influence over the Weasley girl and he had no desire for her to figure things out and spoil his plans. Indeed. This patrol thing was perfect. He'd be able to find out if anyone knew anything without revealing too much to others. He knew there was a reason he accepted McGonagall's assignment.

The rest of their patrol passed uneventfully, and it was with a lighter heart Draco returned to his room. His subtle questioning of Granger had produced a great deal of useful information. It was time to move on to the next phase of his plan.

Harry sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs on his way to Professor Spellsinger's office. It was time for his Occlumency lesson again and he wasn't looking forward to it. He freely admitted learning from her was far more pleasant than learning from Snape, but the lessons were still brutal and he felt like he had been through a battle with Voldemort's Death Eaters when they were done. Still, he kept reminding himself that it was for the good of his friends and the protection of the Order that he was doing this. Lately he had learned how to sense when Voldemort was trying to get into his mind, and he was glad for the lessons.

When he arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, he gave a tentative knock before entering. Tonight's lesson was to be in her office since Professor Spellsinger's classroom was set up for tomorrow's classes. Rumour had it that they would be trying out several new offensive spells, which everyone knew had extreme potential for disaster. Harry briefly considered finding a way to get out of class, but he was interested in learning the spells and wanted to see what was going to happen.

Ryselle wasn't there yet, so he indulged his curiosity and looked around. A picture on her desk caught his eye and he stepped behind the mahogany desk to take a closer look. He was shocked to find it was a picture of his godfather. Sirius Black was standing in front of a tall statue outside what appeared to be a Muggle hotel. His hair was still long, but he was cleaned up and cheerfully waving at the camera. He looked happy. Harry tried to think of a time the older man had been that happy and realized there were few he could remember. The happiest he had ever seen his godfather was over the Christmas holiday the year before he died. He felt a pain at the memory. It was incredibly unfair. Sirius deserved better. It occurred to Harry that maybe Sirius had more happiness than he knew. He doubted Ryselle had Sirius' picture on her desk by accident. _How does she know Sirius,_ he wondered. He bent to examine the picture more closely.

"I am sure you were taught that snooping is not polite, Mr. Potter," said a voice from behind him.

Starting guiltily, he quickly turned around. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just caught sight of this picture and thought I recognized the person in it."

Ryselle smiled. "I imagine you would."

"So it is Sirius Black?" he inquired.

"What do you think?" Ryselle's face was oddly closed.

"I think I'm curious to how you know my godfather." replied Harry.

Harry saw a brief look of pain flash across his teacher's face. "We were…friends. Before he died."

Taking her seat, Ryselle gestured for Harry to join her.

"How did you meet him?"

Ryselle hesitated. "Did he ever mention me, Harry?"

"No," he replied, confused. "Were you in school together?"

She laughed. "No, Harry. I was a child when your godfather attended Hogwarts. We met a bit more recently than that."

"When?"

She looked sad. "Let us just say it was in the past and leave it at that, Harry."

He realized she felt it just as painful to remember Sirius as he himself did. _She must have truly cared about him_, he thought. He decided not to pry further. He had no desire to cause her further pain. With a sharp nod, he dismissed the topic and looked at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor expectantly.

"Let us begin."

"Yes, Professor."

"_Legilimens_!"

Harry felt himself whirling down into darkness. He could see the last few moments of his godfather's life. Sirius was his usual, flippant self, taunting Bellatrix Lestrange when the bolt of energy struck him square in the chest. "SIRIUS!" he shouted, and then realized it was all a memory.

"_Abdo memoria_!" Suddenly he was pulled out of the memory as he willed himself not to be drawn in anymore. He must have pushed too far, because he found himself in a memory he had never seen before.

"_Ryselle!" Sirius Black popped out from behind one of her rose bushes. She gave a slight shriek, dropping the packages she carried, and then speared him with a glance. "Sirius! By the heavens, I asked you not to scare me like that!"_

_He smiled mischievously. "Surely you know by now that nothing you say will stop my antics!" He grinned. "It's all part of my charm." He stepped out of the garden and knelt to help her gather her things. "I hope none of this was breakable," he said._

_She smiled despite herself. "No, just supplies for feeding the incredible Dursley eating machine."_

"_Something from the Weasleys I hope."_

"_Sirius!" Ryselle looked shocked, but her eyes twinkled._

_He laughed. "See? I knew it! You want to prank him too. Come on, it will be fun! I even have some things with me."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "You just happened to bring something with you, I guess?"_

_The mischievous grin returned. "You should know me well enough by now to realize I'm always prepared for pranking."_

"_Of course, how could I forget the infamous Maurader joke-squad? Sirius, I was hoping to make friends with them, not freak them out by turning Dudley blue or making him explode."_

_He looked at her in disappointment. "I guess you're right. This is all for Harry's benefit after all. I guess this means we'll have to find something else to do with our time!"_

_Harry could swear he saw a slight blush on Ryselle's face. "Well, first of all I need to get this stuff inside. If you would please…?"_

_He bowed extravagantly and brandished a small key. "Your wish is my command, my lady!"_

_Sirius opened the door, and Ryselle stepped into her house. Suddenly, she stopped, shock evident on her face. Harry could see why. Every surface of her house was covered in roses of all colors and kinds. Ryselle's bundle of groceries fell to the floor._

"_Sirius…" she whispered._

_He grinned. "Surprised?"_

_She looked at him, her face unreadable. "Very."_

_He clapped his hands delightedly. "Good! I thought you might like this little birthday celebration. I even…" he slipped into the kitchen coming out a moment later with a rose-decorated cake, "baked a cake!"_

_She smiled. "Thank you, l…Sirius." Harry swore he could see tears in her eyes. Her godfather, however, seemed oblivious._

"_And, for the finale!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the back door. "Take a look!"_

_Sitting in the center of the backyard was a beautiful rosebush with roses the color of amethysts. Like her eyes. Harry recognized it as the one he had seen earlier in the summer. She gasped. _

"_It is beautiful, Sirius!"_

"_But not half as lovely as you, my lady," proclaimed Sirius, bowing extravagantly. Harry could tell by the look on his godfather's face that he truly meant it. He must have truly cared for her, thought Harry._

_Sirius abruptly stood up and bounded into the backyard. "So, where shall we plant it…"_

"_Proteus_!" Harry found himself thrust out of the memory back into his seat.

She looked shaken. "Very good, Harry. You might not want to do quite that, however. The idea is to fend off someone reading your mind, not break into theirs. It is very dangerous." Her eyes blinked away the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm sorry, Professor! I just…"

"Defended yourself. I know, Harry." She stood up briskly. "I believe that concludes our lesson for tonight. Be back here the same time tomorrow."

He hesitated, his desire to find out more about his godfather's relationship with Ryselle overriding his natural sensitivity. "Professor…"

Her eyes caught his, a thousand thoughts flashed through her mind. Knowing the conversation was inevitable, she sighed. "You wish to know how Sirius and I knew each other."

He nodded.

She motioned for him to sit down. "It is a bit of a story. The short version is that I met Sirius during the summer after your fourth year at Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to watch the Dursley's house over the summer, and he told me I might see a large, black dog lurking about. I did, and decided to go make his acquaintance. Alistor Moody made sure I knew Sirius Black was innocent of the charges against him." Her face took on an expression of fond remembrance. "He thought I was a Death Eater and tried to curse me. It took some effort, but I was able to convince him I was not associated with Voldemort. I invited him to my house, since we were pretty much doing the same thing, and the rest, as they say, is history. We got to know each other fairly well and kept in contact during the school year."

"So what happened?"

"I went off to complete my studies while you were at Hogwarts, but continued owling him in the interim." She chuckled. "He had this habit of popping up unexpectedly and insisting that I join him for some fun. He never listened. I had studies to complete, but he said 'all work and no play makes Ryselle a dull witch.' Thanks to him, I was able to have a wonderful time that year while I studied the magic of Europe." Tears welled in her eyes. "I…I wish I could have found a way to be there at the Ministry. Maybe I could have…"

"Professor, there was no way of knowing what was going to happen. Even I didn't know. I thought Sirius was there being tortured."

"That is what Voldemort wanted you to believe. Sirius knew Voldemort was trying to use you to betray your friends. He was very worried, Harry. Not only about that, but about what it was doing to you. He was very angry with the way you were being treated."

"So was I. I think I understand now. I only wish I had listened better earlier."

Ryselle got up and circled around her desk to where Harry sat. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she gave him a sad smile. "Harry, you cannot blame yourself for what happened to him. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, not you that killed Sirius. You should instead remember that you were the source of his joy and that he died doing what he always swore to do from the time you were born. He was protecting you, the godson he loved."

He looked up at her, green eyes glinting in the dim light. "What about you?"

"What about me, Harry?"

"Did he love you?"

Harry was taken aback by the agony that flashed across his teacher's face. He immediately wanted to take the words back. He felt like a git.

"I do not know." He barely heard her whispered response.

"I…"

She abruptly pulled away from him to stand near the narrow window. "I do not know how he felt about me, Harry, but I can tell you how I felt about him." She stood for a moment, deep in thought then turned to face him. "I loved him. I just… never told him."

Suddenly the tragedy of her situation became clear. He was fortunate. After Sirius escaped from the Dementors, Harry had put a lot of effort into getting to know his mysterious godfather a lot better. He found that though Sirius tended toward the arrogant side, his heart was good and he stood very firmly on the side of light. He loved Harry without reservation, and did everything in his power to be good to him. It was only recently Harry had been able to express to his godfather how much he cared for him, and had been looking forward to speaking with him during his fifth year. Umbridge destroyed that idea, and all he could do was wait for the holidays. Christmas had been the peak of their relationship by that point. But at least Sirius knew Harry cared for him. And Harry knew Sirius loved him like a little brother at the very least, perhaps as much as a son.

Ryselle had no such assurance. He died without knowing she loved him, and without telling her his feelings. He felt like a heel. "I'm sorry, Ryselle. I'm sorry I brought it up…"

She shook her head. "Do not be sorry, Harry. I was not sure how to tell you, so at least you now know. He was my friend more than anything. I loved him, but I was perfectly happy being his friend and helping him find happiness for a short time. I will never forget that." Her eyes caught his. "You should not, either."

"I won't, Professor."

"Good. Harry, feel free to ask me anything you want about our time together. It is your right to know after all. I would just ask that you… let me be for tonight."

He nodded, backing away to leave his teacher to her thoughts.

_She must have really loved him_, he realized. He wondered how Sirius had felt about her. It was time to write Remus Lupin.

_Dear Moony,_

_I found out something this evening that I need to ask you about. Do you know of a woman named Ryselle Spellsinger? Apparently she knew Sirius and it seems to me like they had something of a relationship. Were they dating? Did he love her? Why didn't Sirius mention her to me? She's one of my professors and I'd like to find out what was going on._

_Harry_

_So he found out about Ryselle_, eh? Remus Lupin set the letter down next to him and leaned back into the deep cushions. Thoughts raced through his head as his mind turned to his brief introduction to the beautiful Gypsy witch. It had been while Harry was at school, he remembered, and he had been more than a little shocked to find out that Sirius was gallivanting about Europe in the company of such a delightful young woman. He was even more surprised when he found out she knew exactly who Sirius Black was and didn't seem to care about his criminal past.

Interestingly enough, he seemed to be more concerned about it than her. Lupin knew Ryselle and Sirius had met shortly after Harry's fourth year. He had been intrigued by her after their rather exciting meeting outside the Dursley's. He could hardly believe it when Sirius told him about it. Even he would not have thought his friend so impulsive. Attacking a strange woman outside his godson's window was pretty over the top, but Remus knew the man had been on edge about Harry for quite a while. Fortunately it appeared the two had been able to work out their differences, and a deep friendship had been the result.

When Harry came to Grimmauld's Place later that summer, it seemed Sirius forgot completely about Ryselle. He never talked of her, or made any attempts to contact her. Lupin figured the relationship had been a temporary thing – two adults agreeing to a short fling for whatever reasons. But when he asked Sirius about it, he came to realize that was not the case. Sirius would disappear for a few days, mumbling something about needing to get away from it all, and then return a lot happier than when he'd left. He knew something was going on, but Sirius refused to say anything. It was only by accident that he found out Sirius had been visiting the young witch during her travels. Remus was convinced Sirius had fallen in love with the woman before his death. That might explain why Harry wanted to know. The knowledge that his godfather had found love before he died might do a great deal to assuage his fears that Sirius never got to enjoy his life.

Knowing how much the death of his godfather affected Harry, Remus decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him what he knew. It was very little, but perhaps something was better than nothing.

Several days later Harry got his response.

_Harry,_

_I only got to meet Ryselle briefly, but what I saw of her indicated she was a rather extraordinary young woman. She reminded me of your friend Hermione in several ways, but seemed to have a much greater capacity for humour. Perhaps not as much as Sirius, however. They got along very well despite all their differences. I can't say they were dating, but they did spend a great deal of time together at the beginning of the year and during the summer before you came to stay here._

_I am of the opinion that he loved her, but I have no idea how she felt about him. She was very good at hiding it if she was, but was obviously very fond of him if she was not. I'd say Sirius never mentioned her because he didn't really mention her to anyone. The only reason I knew about her is because I happened to be staying here. Dumbledore probably knew, but he knows everything. I think he wanted to keep her safe by making sure no one knew they were associated. He worried about her. He was concerned that the Ministry of Magic would find out that they were friends and would try and use her to get to him._

_I would suggest you speak with her yourself to find out the specifics of her relationship with Sirius._

_Lupin_

Harry placed the letter on his desk, speculations running through his head. Professor Spellsinger was quite beautiful and very friendly, but she was also a lot younger than Sirius. Was it possible that they had some sort of furtive relationship? If so, how serious was it? He really wanted to know anything he could about the last days of his godfather's life. It hurt that Sirius was not there to answer his questions, but perhaps his DADA professor might shed some light on things.

Straightening his back with resolve, Harry threw on his robes and went in search of Hogwart's newest teacher.

He found Ryselle sitting next to the lake gazing into the distance. Her eyes were sad, so much so that Harry hesitated to disturb her. It occurred to him that this might not be the best conversation to have with her at this time.

"I assume you have questions for me, Harry." She turned to him, a gentle smile on her lips. A quiet gesture indicated he should sit, and another advised patience when he would have begun the inquiry. They sat in silence for several minutes while she tried to articulate answers to what he wanted to know. She knew he wanted details, but it was hard for her to delve back into those happy memories knowing she would never see him again. _Neither would he_, she thought. Knowing there was no way to avoid it, she began.

"As I told you before, Sirius and I met each other at the end of your fourth year shortly after the return of Voldemort and your return to the Dursleys. I was living across the street by this time, as you know, after Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on you. It was sheer coincidence in all honesty that enabled me to purchase that house. I was on the lookout for unusual activity when I spotted a large dog lurking about. Albus told me to expect him, and identified him as Sirius Black so I would not be alarmed. I decided to go out and meet him." She paused for a moment, thinking, and then nodded as if coming to a decision. "I think, however, this might be a bit easier for you to watch." She reached into her robes and pulled out a small bowl. With a gesture it expanded to normal size, revealing to him that it was a Pensieve. He could see her memories whirling about in the silvery mist and he found himself curious as to what she felt the need to store away.

To his surprise, she answered his unspoken question. "I've been keeping my memories here when we have our Occlumency lessons. I did not think you needed to see things involving your godfather so shortly after his death."

"Then the two of you did have a relationship?"

"Of a sort. We were friends, Harry, very good ones. I wish it could have been more, but he died before I had a chance to tell him how I felt, and I never knew if he felt anything other than friendship for me."

Harry was hesitant to tell the older woman what Lupin had written. She seemed hurt enough by Sirius' death. How would she feel if she knew he had loved her?

"Here. You will want to see this one." Ryselle took Harry's hand and guided it to one of the tendrils in the stone vessel. His hand made contact, and suddenly he found himself in another place…

_It was clear out. The sky was black velvet scattered with the shining gems of the stars overhead. Ryselle sat inside her house in front of the large bay window, idly reading a new book on Magical Plants and Their Effects on Potions. She glanced up to see a large, black dog lurking outside the Dursley's residence. This was the second time this week he had posted himself under Harry's window, and she knew it would be the second night he was to be disappointed by his godson's absence. Harry had been grounded since the beginning of the summer. She figured Sirius didn't know, so she decided to go out and make his acquaintance._

_Ryselle cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself so she could pass unseen over to the Dursley's. She silently snuck over to a nearby tree and carefully hid herself. From there she watched while the dog waited under Harry's window. Half an hour later the black mastiff lifted his head and sniffed the air. Uh oh. A slight breeze sprang up and it appeared Sirius caught a whiff of someone nearby. The dog growled menacingly and came over to sniff near her. His hackles rose, and he let out a fierce snarl, jaws snapping on the spot where she stood a moment earlier. Ryselle figured the time for hiding was at an end, and quickly dispelled the illusion before the dog woke up the neighbors. About a second later, she had a wand pointed at her by a handsome, dark-haired man. His haunted eyes focused narrowly on her. "Who are you?" he demanded hoarsely. _

"_I am called Ryselle Spellsinger," she replied, slowly backing away, "I am here to watch over your godson."_

"_For the Death Eaters, I would presume." His eyes grew cold. "I'm sure you're aware of who I am, so I'm also sure you're aware of what I am capable of. Leave here now, or I will force you to!"_

"_Sirius, you do not understand…" her statement was interrupted as a bolt of eldritch energy erupted from his wand. "Stupefy!" Ryselle dodged behind a tree narrowly avoiding the spell. "Sirius!" She whispered urgently, "Stop this! I am not here to hurt Harry!"_

"_Bloody likely story." His voice came from nearby, over to her left. She gave some serious consideration to what she could do in the next few moments. It was only a matter of time before he found her and she wasn't sure she could keep dodging spells all night. But she also wasn't sure what she could do to escape._

_The snap of a twig cut into her reverie, and she quickly made a decision. Pointing her wand at the source of the sound, she whispered "Expelliarmus!" A short curse told her she was successful. She stepped out from behind the tree, and aimed her wand at the dark figure. "Sirius, stop!" She said. "I do not want to do this, but you have left me no choice. You are going to stand there while we talk about this sit…oof!" The air was knocked out of her as Sirius Black tackled her, wresting her wand out of her hand. _Well that worked well,_ she thought wryly._

"_Who are you? What do you want? Why are you here?" Sirius demanded, pinning her to the ground. "Ryselle Spellsinger. World peace. To guard Harry." She replied. She let out a small gasp as his grip tightened. "Be more specific, Ryselle," he grated, his face inches from hers. Idly, her mind observed that if he were to improve his grooming habits, he'd be a very good-looking man. _Stop that_, she chided. "Sirius, I am here at the behest of Albus Dumbledore. I have been watching to make sure no one comes to threaten Harry." She grimaced, "Well, aside from that fat little Dudley bastard." His lips curved into a slight grin. _Yes_, she thought, _he just needs to pay a bit more attention…stop it! Nice smile, though_. Ryselle closed her eyes briefly and took firm control of her thoughts. _ This is what I get for dedicating my entire life to magic_, she observed silently, _the first time I get pinned to the ground by some strange wizard the only thing I can think of is how handsome he is._ She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her, puzzled._

"_Dumbledore never mentioned you," he said suspiciously. _

"_That would be because he is not exactly broadcasting my presence," she replied. "He felt it better that I remain unknown. No one knows who I am, so they cannot tell the Death Eaters." _

_He grimaced. "No, you're right about that. Until they find them all this is probably the smartest thing he's ever done." His gaze sharpened. "Who are you that Dumbledore would trust you with Harry's life?" Sirius demanded._

_Ryselle sighed. "I am the student of one of his old friends, Sirius." His curious look compelled her to continue. "Aechyrus. I am his apprentice." Sirius tried not to look impressed, but failed. It was hard for him to believe that this woman, this exotically beautiful raven-haired woman was the only apprentice of the legendary and reclusive Archwizard. Beautiful? Exotic? _ Why does that make a difference_, he wondered. He looked down at her, trying to fathom the ability she must possess to have been chosen for such an honor. One thing is for certain, he thought, if she's truly Aechyrus' apprentice, then she's certainly no Death Eater._

_Ryselle was starting to become tired of being pinned to the ground, no matter how handsome the man was. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she began, "might I have the use of my body back?" Sirius started at the sound of her musical voice. For one brief moment, he had found himself being drawn in to her mysterious violet eyes. Unusual color, he thought. "Sorry," he muttered, letting her go. _ I was in Azkaban too long, _he thought,_ if the first woman I meet has such an effect on me. I need to get a grip. Even if she is beautiful. _ Sirius mentally slapped himself. "Uh, well, I'm sorry for, uh, tackling you, Ryselle." She smiled. _Beautiful_, he thought. "I understand, Sirius. I was just surprised." Ryselle laughed, "I will have to remember that tactic the next time I find myself disarmed." Sirius held out his hand to help her up. _

"_Thank you." _

"_Here, don't forget this." He handed her back her wand._

_As she walked away, a thought occurred to Ryselle. She turned back to Harry's godfather. "Sirius." She called softly. "You are aware that Harry has been grounded since the beginning of summer? It will be sometime before his punishment is complete. I do not think you will be able to see him anytime soon. Feel free to drop by my house if you want to watch him. It has got the perfect view." She waited a few moments for a response, and then Disillusioned herself for the short walk to her house._

_Sirius Black watched her go. He was stunned by her offer. He was a convicted murderer, yet here she was inviting him to come over to her house. She was either extremely foolish, well informed, or powerful enough not to be worried. He didn't think it was the first. The idea appealed to him, however. He refused to acknowledge the part of his mind that suggested his interest was for alternative reasons. Changing back into his canine form, Sirius settled down for the night under Harry's window. Sleep was a long time coming, and his thoughts were filled with fascination for the beautiful and mysterious witch he had just met._

_One week later, after missing yet another opportunity to visit with Harry, Sirius decided to take Ryselle up on her offer. From that point, it had only been a matter of time before she fell in love with him. The realization was abrupt, as was the despair she felt when she realized he would never return her feelings. But it was nothing compared to hearing about his death…_

Harry blinked as reality returned. Feeling her pain, he knew the knowledge that Sirius loved her would only make things worse. He resolved to never mention his godfather to her again.

"Uh, thanks, Ryselle. It helps to know that he found some happiness before his death. I was always so afraid he died…unhappy."

Ryselle smiled. "Never think that, Harry. He loved you as he would have loved his own son. He was happy to know you and to be able to spend what time he could with you. I have no doubt that Christmas was one of his happiest memories."

"Why weren't you there?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

She gave him a sad smile. "Headmaster Dumbledore did not want anyone to know about me. The so-called 'secret weapon' of the Order and all that. I was not a member yet anyway, since I was not free to dedicate myself. I understand why he wanted to keep the location of the meetings secret."

Part of Harry's mind thought rather uncharitably that the headmaster had a tendency to be too cautious and unwilling to let others into his confidence. If he had, Sirius would not be dead and Ryselle would probably know how he felt about her. Rationally he knew Dumbledore had no way of knowing how things would work out, but a part of him was still angry. He supposed he would eventually come to peace with things, but Sirius' death was still too close for him to be rational about it. He wondered how Ryselle felt.

"Do not worry for me, Harry. Sirius and I got to spend a great deal of time together. He was quite insistent, you know. He took me to places I never would have gone by myself. Muggle places, interestingly enough. I learned a lot." Her eyes grew distant and filled with delight at the fond remembrances. He found himself reluctant to disturb her. Moving quietly, he got up and headed away, leaving Ryselle alone to her memories.

Harry turned for a moment to look back at his professor, an impulse born of the love they shared for Sirius Black. He spoke softly, hoping to help her as she helped him this summer.

"He wouldn't want you to stop living, Ryselle. You told me that. I know you say Gypsies typically mate for life, but the last thing he would want would be for you to give up that part of your life for his memory. Maybe I'm not the only one that needs to move on."

Her pained eyes met his and read the unspoken message there. Sirius would be the first to slap some sense into her if he saw her like this. She smiled sadly and nodded.

"Thank you, Harry."


	11. The Dark Truth

It was the end of November, and Draco had been trying to keep up the pretense that he was interested in talking with Ginny. It wasn't terribly hard he had to admit, considering what an interesting person she was turning out to be. Now that she was taking sixth year classes, a fact that never ceased to amaze him, it was a lot easier to "run" into her. He didn't want to give her the impression he was stalking her, but he did want to seem at least marginally interested. That way when he revealed himself she would find it a lot more believable that he actually liked her. The success of his plan depended on how much he could get her to like him.

It was the depth of her mind that fascinated Draco. He was interested in what she had to say about lessons that had been taught during the day, homework they'd been given, and plans she might have for her free time. They didn't have all the same classes, but they shared their experiences nonetheless and got an interesting perspective from the other side. The two students talked about things they read over the years, places they had been to, and anything that did not reveal too much of his identity. She even talked about him – Draco Malfoy. He was pleasantly surprised. She didn't hate him as much as he thought. But then, now that he knew her, he couldn't imagine Ginny hating anyone.

_SA,_

_Well, it happened again today. That blimey git tried to corner me in the hallway to talk about "potions." I wish I knew what he was up to. I'd like to think his interest is genuine. He's a prat, but he is a good-looking prat. However, I don't believe it is. If there is one thing I've learned about Draco Malfoy over the years is that he always has a hidden agenda. Just like his bastard father. Hopefully he'll get out of the Death Eater tradition, but I have very little hope of that. From what I've seen, he's a miniature copy of the man. Let's just hope he doesn't go slipping any diaries into little girl's cauldrons. _

_Anyway. Fortunately for me, Harry came charging to my rescue. Again. Sometimes it gets annoying, but I really don't want to have to deal with Malfoy. It's always more entertaining to watch Harry do it anyway. He has such style. Too bad Malfoy's such a git. I bet they'd get along famously. But don't tell my brother I said that. He hates him just because he's a Malfoy. Of course, Malfoy hates us because we're Weasleys, so it's only fair. _

_Do you ever find that people judge you by your name or your level of wealth? It makes me sick. My parents work hard to provide for all of us. We have a solid roof over our heads, rooms for all of us, enough money to send us to school, and have a number of successful people in the family. Did you know that several of my brothers work for the Ministry of Magic? And there's my father who will probably be the next Minister. But because we're not rolling in Galleons, we're the scum of the Wizarding world. Maybe I need to kick his ass again for good measure._

_Well, I have to get to practice. We play Ravenclaw next week and need to beat them to keep up with Slytherin. It promises to be interesting. Wish us luck!_

_Ginny_

Draco smirked as he read the letter. He remembered the encounter vividly. It was after Transfiguration. McGonagall had them transforming their quills into geese, and Longbottom and Weasley had botched it up as usual. Not the youngest Weasley; the Weasel King. Weasley wound up being attacked by the goose head that came to be on the end of his quill. Longbottom's quill exploded in a spray of white feathers, causing the other geese in the room to panic. Feathers were everywhere by the time class was done, and the two Gryffindors had earned the privilege of cleaning it all up. He couldn't help but laugh at the two boys, which probably didn't help his standing with Ginny. She was so protective of that oaf brother of hers.

_Ginny stayed behind for a few minutes to talk to McGonagall about something, so he decided to wait nearby and initiate a 'chance' encounter when she came out. He hoped for a better reaction than the one he got._

"_What do you want, Malfoy?" He honestly felt he didn't deserve the exasperation in her voice._

"_I thought we might talk about the potions assignment. You, at least, seem to understand some small part of it." Flattery will get you everywhere._

"_Bugger off, Malfoy." Except with her, apparently. "I have no need or desire to talk with you about anything. Why don't you go chat with Professor Snape if you're so interested in a conversation about potions?"_

"_I had hoped to find out what your opinion was. I know what the professor thinks." Bloody hell she was difficult!_

_She laughed derisively. "I'm sure. I have no doubt you know all the answers and am completely ready for tomorrow's surprise test. After all, we mustn't allow Gryffindor to win the Cup fair and square!"_

"_That's not what I meant!"_

"_Oh? Then what did you mean? You seem to be under the delusion that I might find talking with you interesting, Malfoy. Let me enlighten you. I have no interest in chatting with you about Potions, Defense Against Dark Arts, Transfiguration, History, Muggle Studies, or anything else you can think of. I would rather be covered in boils than spend a single moment in your presence for any reason. I don't know why you've been stalking me, but I suggest you leave me alone before I do something both of us will regret."_

_That was enough. He stepped toward her. "Really, Weaselette. I rather think you'd prefer doing something you'd regret. What is it you said? Ah yes. Perhaps you would like to have a go at feeling the texture of my tight, sexy pants? Or maybe run your fingers through this 'yummy' hair. I could certainly accommodate you. Maybe you'd like to see my hard, manly…"_

"_Malfoy!"_

"…_chest?" He wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but ever since he heard her conversation with Pavrati, he'd been looking for a way to find out if she really meant it. From the way her face flushed when he stepped closer, she did._

"_I…I don't know what you mean!"_

"_Sure you do. Pavrati? The window alcove? It's not a terribly private place, my dear Ginevra." Where did that come from?_

"_I can't believe you were spying on me! You prat!"_

"_Tut tut. No need for name-calling. I honestly just happened to be walking by when I heard my name. Surely you don't expect me to ignore such a thing."_

"_I expect you would be courteous enough to respect my privacy!"_

"_You seem to mistake me for someone from another house, Ginevra. I am a Slytherin after all."_

"_How could I forget?"_

_His silver eyes caught hers, and he moved closer. He could sense her trembling. "Potions, Ginevra," how he loved that name! "Can be a very interesting topic. You seem to have a rather thorough understanding of them. Maybe we could go someplace private and discuss it?"_

_For a moment, she looked on the verge of saying yes. Then she snapped back to herself and stepped back. Not too far, however, since he almost had her pinned to the wall. "I have homework to do, Malfoy. A lot of it! I'm sorry but I'm not interested." The last was said with enormous dignity._

_He found himself moving his face to within inches of hers. "Very well, my dear Ginevra. Some other time then." He hesitated, oddly reluctant to move away._

"_Malfoy!" Bloody hell. Potter._

_Taking control of himself, he turned lazily and eyes the approaching Gryffindor. Potter looked furious._

"_You rang, Potter?"_

"_Get the hell away from her, Malfoy!"_

"_And if I don't?"_

"_Try me."_

_Draco was surprised at that response. The Gryffindor actually sounded menacing. He didn't realize Potter cared so deeply for the little Weaselette. He wondered if Granger knew._

"_Maybe later, Potter, when I'm free to amuse myself. Fortunately for you, I have…other plans." He hoped Ginny would get the insinuation._

"_Good. We'll leave you to them then."_

_The Slytherin prefect turned abruptly and left her standing there, Potter hovering protectively over her. Before the bloody Hero of Hogwarts arrived, he had been making headway he could tell. Her eyes had sparkled with…something. Attraction, he hoped. It was all he could to do maintain control and not look back. She had been flushed and wide-eyed, but not from fear he suspected. His lips curled into a smirk as he realized he was getting to her. He refused to consider the idea that she was getting to him. It was all under control. He would win this bet._

Draco felt himself smirking at the memory. He was definitely getting to her. Things were going according to plan. Now he just needed to switch gears and be the kind and attentive secret admirer. Wish them luck. Hmmm. It would be odd wishing a Chaser of the Gryffindor team luck, but he supposed he could. Otherwise she might figure out he's in Slytherin House. He'd successfully kept her guessing about his identity for some time now, and he figured he'd let it go on as long as she fell for it.

He secretly admitted that he didn't want the letters to end. She was a stimulating conversationalist, even when she was being insulting, and he observed that it provoked a response from him. Her truthfulness intrigued him and he found himself being more honest in his writing. Perhaps in response to her honesty. It bothered him, but he could not bring himself to lie all out to her. _I must be going crazy_, he thought.

What she said about being judged for her family hit home. No matter where he went, the Malfoy name dragged at him like an anchor around his neck. It didn't matter how much he changed his look. As long as he had the name, he would always be thought of in a particular way.

Unfortunately for him, his father ruined the image with his Death Eater rubbish. Draco had not been surprised to find out it was his father that put Tom Riddle's diary in Ginny's cauldron. He knew the man was a sick enough bastard to do it. He always wondered what it was like being possessed by the memory of Tom Riddle. Draco knew Ginny had been separated a bit from everyone else because of it. She bore it well, but there would always be a stigma attached to her: _Ginny Weasley, the girl who was possessed by Voldemort and opened the Chamber of Secrets._ Harry Potter was probably the only person that didn't treat her differently. That no doubt accounted for some of her fondness for him.

Draco involuntarily felt a wave of jealously. What kind of relationship did those two have? He would have sworn Potter had a thing for Granger, but he never saw the boy step in to protect her as he did with Ginny. His plan to isolate her from the Aldread boy was well underway, but he knew Potter would be a lot harder to alienate. He would actually put it in the category of impossible. Besides, it wouldn't do to provide an opportunity for the Dream Team to interfere in his plans. Ginny would stand up to them once they were together, but until them he had to be very careful.

He found himself envying Potter sometimes. He had the freedom to do what he wanted and to be whatever he wished. There was a time when Draco had actually considered becoming an Auror. He was young then and knew nothing about Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Magic was magic to him, and he didn't learn until later that the spells his father wanted him to learn were of the Dark Arts. All it took was one short chat with his father, and he never thought about the idea again.

Now he had no idea what he wanted. For years his family had his life planned out for him. He would go to Hogwarts, marry Pansy after graduation, become a Death Eater, and serve Voldemort loyally until the Wizarding world was his. No one ever really thought beyond that point. It never occurred to them that Voldemort would fail. He honestly thought it would be as miracle if the scaly git succeeded. Like far too many before him, he buggered things up with his ego.

Thanks to his father's fanatical loyalty to the crazy git, the Malfoy name was more despised than ever. Because of his father's alleged actions at the Ministry, far too many people distrusted the Malfoys as a result of the rumours about the incident. It was going to be virtually impossible for him to make a life for himself without the stigma of Voldemort's Death Eaters dogging his every step. He had no idea what direction he would be able to lead his life. Too bad his mother hadn't been caught, he thought savagely. Maybe if she were caught things would settle down. It would serve her right for getting her cousin killed.

Now that was something which made him almost feel sorry for Potter. Ginny had also talked with him about how Sirius' death had affected her friend, and how his life had been one string of tragedies starting with the deaths of his parents and ending with that of his godfather. Both Potters had been killed by Voldemort. His Aunt and her family hated him. And until he died, the only real family he had left was Sirius Black. It was made all the worse by the fact that the man had been on the run for the two years prior to his death. Harry had been unable to spend any real quality time with the man, especially thanks to that old bat Umbridge. Draco had really not liked her, but had gotten on her good side for his own benefit. It worked, so he had been satisfied.

Making the decision to begin giving her more hints as to his identity, Draco pulled out another sheet of embossed linen and began to write.

The next few days were agonizing as he wrote and rewrote his next letter. He was riding a careful balance between giving her enough information to start hinting, and not enough to reveal his identity without actually lying. As a result, the time passed quickly and soon December was upon them like the bitter wind accompanying it. It was with great trepidation that he sent off the letter and settled in to wait for her response.

The Quidditch match against Ravenclaw was scheduled for the first week in December. It was exciting, as usual, but Harry once again saved the day by catching the Snitch. As usual. Ginny and Hermione headed back to Gryffindor afterward, discussing several different plays and alternative strategies. It was surprising how much Hermione actually knew about Quidditch. Ginny was upset that she had been forced to sit the game out thanks to an untimely accident during practice a few days ago. Her leg still hurt from the break and it would be another week before she was fully recovered. At least Gryffindor won, but it was a lot closer than she had hoped.

Upon reaching Gryffindor tower, Ginny and Hermione decided to go occupy themselves for the rest of the day. Ginny wanted nothing more than to curl up on her warm bed and read one of the books Lavender lent her, and it seemed Hermione was caught up in her own thoughts. _Probably something about Harry_, she thought. Against her wishes, her mind turned to his nemesis and she found herself shivering with an unexplained emotion. Unconsciously her face twisted into a grimace. The king of all bastards, Draco Malfoy, had been getting far more irritating lately and she was still trying to figure out what he was after.

Ginny's eyes quickly darted to Hermione as she schooled her face into a more neutral expression. It wouldn't do to have the older girl ask her why she was frowning. Fortunately she seemed to still be absorbed in her own head as she sat by the fire. Ginny hesitated, wondering if she should take this opportunity to talk things over with her best friend. While part of her wanted to discuss the situation, the other part could not help but remember how her brother reacted to her encounter with Malfoy a few days ago. She'd taken to keeping her encounters with Malfoy secret ever since. At least Harry hadn't told him about the one last week. It wasn't that big of a deal, really.

It was after Quiddich practice, and he'd apparently run out of victims to entertain himself with. He'd been lounging indolently by the broom shed; waiting it seemed, especially for her. He moved to block the door as she approached. She wondered if she'd get in trouble for hexing him.

_"Well, isn't it the littlest Weasel? Come out to play, have we?"_

_"Sod off, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood."_

_He smirked. "That can change, Weasley."_

_Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Get out of my way, Malfoy."_

_"Make me, Weaselette."_

_It was too bad he was such a prat. Their encounter last week still made her somewhat weak in the knees, but then she remembered how he treated her most of the time, like now, and the attraction went away. This really was starting to piss her off. Ginny's temper was rapidly rising, which seemed to amuse Draco to no end. It was probably why he failed to notice the fiery glint in her eye and was unaware what it represented._

_Ginny thought for a moment, then decided she could live with the detention. She pulled out her wand and prepared to cast her infamous Bat Bogey hex._

_"Ginny!"_

_With a final glare at Malfoy, Ginny turned to face her brother. "What?"_

_"What the bloody hell are you doing with Malfoy?"_

_"What does it look like, Ron? I'm getting ready to snog him senseless. Want to watch?"_

_Ron's eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head. "WHAT?"_

_"By Merlin, Ron, you really are dense. What did it look like I was doing?" _

It took Ginny the better part of an hour to calm her brother down. By that point, she was ready to cast the Bat Bogey hex on him. Malfoy disappeared at some point during their discussion, but she had no real need to go find out what he wanted. Why would she care?

_Why indeed_, wondered her subconscious. Ginny was in the throes of a rather large quandary. On one hand, she found Draco Malfoy very physically attractive and rather fascinating when he was being snide without the hostility. It was when he was around other people that she hated him. The more public the venue, it seemed; the crueler he tended to be. She still remembered that day where it had seemed she was mere centemetres away from kissing the Slytherin prat. _He really is cute_, she silently admitted. She quickly thought guiltily of Hermione. How could she even consider that? The ruddy bastard was constantly harassing Hermione and her friends for the most pathetic of excuses, not to mention how he treated her on a daily basis. She wished he could be more like her secret admirer.

They'd been writing each other for some time now and she still had yet to ascertain his identity. Truth be told, she wasn't much closer to solving that mystery than when the letters started. She had an extensive list in her diary about things she gleaned from their correspondence, but was unable to narrow it down to even a few options. She wasn't even sure what house he was in, although she theorized it was Slytherin. He'd been very careful about telling her as little as possible; it was really starting to annoy her.

His latest letter had only added to her frustration, giving her small hints of whom and what he was, but no real information. She decided she needed to think on it before responding. She'd put it away several days ago and had not looked at it since. Perhaps the time had come for her to write back.

Bidding Hermione farewell, she escaped to the dorm upstairs citing the excuse that her leg was bothering her. She wasn't really lying; she just wanted to have some time to think about things before she wrote SA tonight. Things had grown even more confusing for her, thanks to her growing attraction to Malfoy and a persistent inner voice that told her Julian was not what she wanted him to be. She hated thinking that. He really was truly wonderful. He treated her with kindness and respect, and made it quite clear to anyone that he cared for her greatly. Sometimes, however, she couldn't help but compare him to SA and wonder how things might be different.

She sighed. Why didn't she stop writing SA after Julian asked her about it? They were friends, she told him, and she honestly wanted to believe that. But there was always that annoying little voice in the background telling her that she was fooling herself. That SA was far closer to what she wanted in a man than Julian. Bugger. She needed to get this out of her head. But first, she was going to respond to SA. She'd kept him hanging long enough. Pulling out his last letter, she settled under her covers to reread it. Hoping, perhaps, to find something else that would leap out at her and give her an indication as to who he was.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_I'm sorry to hear about Malfoy bothering you. I wish I could enlighten you as to his motivations, but who really can tell. As for your being judged by your family name, yes, Ginny, I can relate all too well. When I enter any place in the Wizarding world, I am immediately recognized because of my family. There are certain assumptions there, not all of them positive, that I will never escape because of the actions of certain members of my family. The influence at times is gratifying, but sometimes I wish anonymity. I can only imagine what it is like for you and your family. It is my understanding that your family is a pure-blood family, but because of your financial situation, is thought to be inferior. I have no doubt that people miss the fact that your family is happy and healthy. Few recognize it as a legitimate measure of success. Many, like my family, judge only by the nobility of lineage and acquisition of wealth._

_My father honestly believes that those with wealth are fundamentally superior to those without. I've always wondered about those who come into wealth. Do they suddenly find superiority hidden amongst the riches? He goes so far as to believe those with wealth must act differently from others because they cannot lower themselves to behave like the unwashed masses. Take holidays for example. I have seen the joy you and your family and friends experience around the holidays. I can honestly say I have never had such an experience. My father feels that gathering together to celebrate Christmas is a bohemian tradition and should not be recognized by those of noble ancestry. When I was younger, I once asked him why. His answer to me was to lock me in my room and order me to write out a hundred reasons why being wealthy means I'm superior to other children. Perhaps if I had never done that, I would have more friends today._

_But I do not wish to bring your day down with my life experiences. What do you have planned for the upcoming holidays?_

_SA_

She still felt a thrill of excitement as she realized he'd revealed more about himself with this one letter than he had with the past ten. Staring thoughtfully into space, she absently pulled out her diary. _Wealthy_, she wrote. _Unfriendly family. Superiority complex_. _Sounds like he's from Slytherin_, she thought. Suddenly, it hit her. Maybe she'd been right all along. It would make perfect sense as to why he refused to meet her and was so evasive about himself. He must fear she would despise him for his House affiliation. Her first reaction was to be indignant, but then she thought about it. She knew full well how her brother and even Harry would react to the idea of her associating with a Slytherin. They didn't trust a single one of them. _He must be one of the few not trying to take after Draco Malfoy, _she thought. _I wonder who he is?_ He had to be one incredible actor to be able to exist in Slytherin with his attitude. Sure, she detected certain arrogance in him, but he had made it quite plain that he was no supporter of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. It was almost as if he had something personal against them. Hadenthor?

Despite all the time they'd spent exchanging letters, there was still so little she knew about him. She couldn't help but be disappointed that he left so much of himself out of them. She felt as if she were getting to know an image as opposed to a person. She got the feeling he wanted her to see only certain things, and found herself curious as to why. How could he be so afraid of being honest with her? It was starting to bother her more and more.

Ginny sighed. Every letter they wrote was like an intricate combination of dancing around the truth and sharing as much of themselves as possible without revealing anything to significant. In all honesty, she was starting to tire of it. The mind behind the letters intrigued her, and she wanted to be free to speak of anything with him. She wanted to know what he liked, what he hated. What color his eyes were. How he liked his bleeding steak, for Merlin's sake.

She wanted something real, not the fantasy her brother was happy with. Julian was wonderful, but what if things would be better with SA? Ugh. How could she be thinking this? She cared for Julian and was very happy with him. He was like a dream come true. A fairy tale prince like the one she always thought Harry. It had been a few weeks since they got together and she'd never been happier. Even her brother was okay with Julian. The only real fly in the ointment, besides her correspondence with SA, was Blaise Zabini.

That ruddy bint was doing everything in her power to fling herself at Julian, making it quite clear to anyone with eyes that she was trying actively to steal her boyfriend away. Bitch. Why couldn't she focus on someone else? Like Ron or something. Merlin knew he needed a girlfriend. Ginny knew Blaise was after Julian because he made himself unattainable from the first day he came to Hogwarts. He was a challenge now, and she was never one to back away from a challenge. Bugger. The sad thing was that Julian had no idea what was going on. He genuinely thought Blaise was just being friendly. He was such a nice guy, frustratingly so at times, and never considered that she was trying to destroy his relationship with Ginny. She was going to use him and cast him aside if she succeeded, and Julian would never be the same.

She had this feeling that things were going to become very bad, very soon, and she had no idea what to do about it.

While Ginny agonized over her issues with SA and her boyfriend Julian, and as Harry and Hermione struggled to remain friends without crossing over that invisible line to something more, Ryselle Spellsinger and Severus Snape were fighting a silent battle of their own. Each felt an intense attraction for the other, and each was convinced it was an impossible situation. Severus was very frustrating to Ryselle since he was always so closed to her. Since she'd asked him to be her dueling partner, they had become friends, but there was always a distance between them enforced by his almost compulsive formality. He, on the other hand, had no idea how to react to her. She was outgoing, forward, and completely different from any other woman he'd been with before. It went without saying that she was beautiful, which made her all the more intimidating.

Neither wanted to be the one to rock the boat and risk changing things.

It might have remained that way had it not been for their next dueling practice. Ryselle looked forward to these practices, and she also enjoyed the time they spent together working on Potions. She loved watching his mind work to figure out a complex problem, and it was amazing to watch his skill in the lab. He had a great talent for magical defense, but his true gift was Potions.

The practice was scheduled a few days after the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match. She was happy that Slytherin had not played since it meant he would probably be in a better mood. He was difficult enough to defeat without the added challenge of his irritation. It fascinated her how difficult he was to beat. Thanks to him, Ryselle had learned a great many curses and hexes her grandfather never taught her. She wondered where he learned it all.

Severus Snape was waiting for her when she got down to the dueling hall. He did not seem terribly upset that she was late. One of her students had requested a moment of her time, and she wasn't about to turn him down. She immediately headed to meet Snape after the boy left, hoping he wasn't too annoyed.

"Ah. I see you have finally decided to join me." His sarcasm was biting, but the small smirk he had told her he wasn't too serious.

"Well, you know how it is. My social life is so crowded, I barely have time for anything these days." She smiled facetiously.

Frowning, he moved to assume the standard dueling position. "Ready?"

She joined him, and nodded.

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Speculum_!"

Snape flew back as his curse rebounded. He landed hard, and lay still for a moment. Concerned, Ryselle ran over to his prone form to help him. The blood drained from her face as she saw what was on his left arm. The sleeve of his robes had pulled up, revealing a grinning skull intertwined with a snake. She halted, horrified. Severus Snape bore the Dark Mark. Panic overwhelmed her.

The Slytherin professor sat up, quickly pulling down his sleeve and looked up at Ryselle. He saw the look of revulsion, and immediately knew she had seen the Mark. He quickly stood up, wincing as pain shot through his shoulder.

Ryselle's eyes widened, and she abruptly turned and fled the room.

"Ryselle! Wait! I can explain." Severus started after her, but she moved too quickly and he was slightly injured from his impact with the wall. _Blast it_, he thought. _So much for the easy way_. He knew from talking with her that she passionately hated the Death Eaters. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and their spy in Voldemort's ranks, he was very careful not to let anyone see the Dark Mark. Tonight's fiasco was something he could never have predicted. He had thought about telling her, but his oath to the Order prevented it. Now he wasn't sure what to do. Sighing, he decided to go talk with Dumbledore. _This is not going to be pleasant_, he thought gloomily.

Ryselle ran through the hallways, instinctively avoiding contact with a single person. When she arrived at her rooms, she slammed the door and collapsed in the center of the room. _Severus was a Death Eater!_ The thought echoed over and over in her head. _How can he be a teacher here_, she wondered. Ryselle had come to value her burgeoning friendship with the potions master. After he had gotten used to her, he had begun relaxing in her presence. She discovered that he had a very snide and biting sense of humour, but seemed to tone it down once he got to know her. He was incredibly knowledgeable about a great deal of magic. She was very impressed with his knowledge of potions. She freely admitted that while he would do well as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he was far more suited to his position as the potions master.

She was still in shock that he bore the Dark Mark of Voldemort. She assumed it was from his past. Dumbledore would never let an active Death Eater anywhere near his students, but she wondered what had happened. When had he been one of Voldemort's followers, for example. A voice in the back of her mind wondered if he had done the horrible things Death Eaters were known for. She was horrified at the thought. Memories of the night her parents were killed came flooding back, and she could not escape their grasp. She found herself pulled into a recollection of that night – the fear and horror she experienced, and the sadness upon realizing her parents were dead.

Tears streamed down her face as she remembered. Flashes of the forest, her father's death, her grandfather's revenge, all of it pounded into her head beyond her control. Her familiar, Yradinae, hopped up to her having been called by her mistress' grief. She was a small, golden lizard with wings like a dragon. The dragonet rubbed her golden head against Ryselle's hand, trying to bring her back to herself. A knock at the door startled them both.

Ryselle stood up and muttered an appearance charm on herself. She knew who it was and did not want him to see how she had fallen apart. She reluctantly opened the door, and was not surprised to see Professor Snape standing outside. He appeared more disheveled than she'd ever seen him. The high collar of his tunic was loosened and she could see the white shirt he wore underneath. His hair was a bit more messy than usual, looking as if he'd been running his hands through it. She was most startled, however, by the look of sadness and regret on his face.

"Might I come in for a moment, Ryselle?"

She started at the sound of her name. This was the second time he had called her by her first name. She nodded, silently opening the door to admit him.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at the sight of Yradinae. He recognized her for what she was and found himself surprised that Ryselle had won the loyalty of one of the rare creatures. Few people knew of the existence of the miniature dragons. The information was suppressed by the Ministry years ago as a way to protect their dwindling numbers. For Ryselle to possess one of them spoke highly of her connections in the Wizarding world. He wondered how she got it. Shaking himself, he firmly turned his mind back to the task at hand.

He gazed at her, his face unreadable and took a deep breath. _This was not going to be easy_, he realized. "Ryselle. I think perhaps we need to talk."

She nodded, gesturing for him to take a seat.

Nodding thanks he took off his outer robe and sat down. "Ryselle. I presume you have some questions as to where I received this and why." He pulled up his sleeve revealing the Dark Mark. She flinched. "There is a story behind it, and I ask that you forebear to judge me before you have heard it. Please?"

Ryselle looked at him, reaching out with her senses to see if he was misleading her. She was surprised to find out that not only was he truly concerned, but also he was more open than she had ever seen him. She slowly nodded. "It seems only fair, Severus."

"In all honesty, I have to say I thought Dumbledore had already explained to you my role in the Order. He mentioned a few weeks back you would be joining us and I…"

"Then he knows."

He nodded.

"And he does not have a problem with it, obviously."

"But you do."

She was silent.

"You hate them, the Death Eaters. Far more than a simple stance against the Dark Lord would imply. Why?"

The horror and revulsion in her face made him cringe and feel ashamed of his past. There was no way she would associate with him now. _Bloody hell._

"I…" She looked like she was getting ready to flee the room. "I cannot talk about this now, Severus. I am sorry!" She turned away. He reached out to touch her shoulder. It hurt him that she flinched.

"Ryselle. This is not something that is going to go away. Please. Tell me what's wrong."

She laughed, bitterly. "Wrong? What do you think is wrong, Severus? You are a bloody Death Eater for Merlin's sake! Tell me how I am supposed to handle that?"

"By not turning away, that's how. Are we not friends?"

"Y…yes."

"Then let me explain, at least." He watched as she fought back the panic threatening to overwhelm her. He wondered what had happened to make her hate and fear the Death Eaters so much. With a tight nod, she resumed her seat.

He sighed. _This was not going to be easy_. "It is not a short story, Ryselle, if I want to make sure you understand what happened fully. I hope you are prepared."

Another nod.

"I was born the first and only son of a very wealthy pure-blood family. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Snape." He smiled wryly. "Cumbersome, isn't it?" He was disappointed in her lack of response. _Get on with it, Snape_, he thought. _Bloody hell._ Why is it that his inner voice had to sound like Sirius Black? "My father was not the…nicest man in the world. He was a firm believer in the purity of Wizardkind, and a major advocate of a separation between Wizards and Muggles. In other words, he felt Muggleborn should not be allowed into Wizarding society. He was a barrister, and used all the influence he had to make things as difficult as possible for Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

He watched her carefully while he spoke. She still had yet to evidence a reaction. "I grew up in a loveless environment, surrounded by servants, nannies, tutors – anyone but my parents. In actuality, my grandparents were the only family I truly knew for who they were. My parents had a marriage of convenience, which did not involve love, and expected I would grow up to do my part to increase the Snape family legacy. I was five years old when my tutor figured out I had a knack for potions. My father, however, was far more interested in my ability to cast spells. It never occurred to my father that I would not be able to do magic, so I was taught from an early age the methodology of spellcraft. Mostly Dark Arts, unfortunately. The day my Hogwarts letter came was one of the happiest days of my life. My father was proud of me and he and my mother took me out to Hogsmeade to celebrate."

"It was there that I met the Malfoys. Lucius is frighteningly like his father – arrogant, cold, and possessing of an absolute hatred of all things Muggle. The entire dinner was spent listening to Mr. Malfoy's tirade against those who would sully our blood. My father completely agreed. He'd brought me up to believe that Muggles were inferiour. It honestly never occurred to me to question him. Imagine my surprise when I came to this school and met students that were not of pure-blood families. Or were, worse yet, born of Muggle families. Mudbloods they were called and I viewed them as inferior. I had difficulty acknowledging that they were just as talented at magic as I. It was a confusing time. "

"When I was younger, during my time at Hogwarts, I must feely admit my fascination for the Dark Arts continued. As I mentioned, it ran in my family. I was brought up to prize power and the purity of Wizardkind. My first year there, I made the acquaintance of several members of pure-blood families, such as the Malfoys, and was sorted into Slytherin where most of them resided. I was always a bit of an oddball, being very studious and socially inept." He frowned with remembrance, forcing himself to remain as neutral as possible. He had no desire to prove everything she'd heard about Death Eaters correct by losing his temper. He could tell she was listening but he was afraid she might stop if he got too angry.

"It was shortly after I began school that I met a student called James Potter. It was hate at first sight. To this day, I cannot honestly say why we despised each other so much, but our meeting sparked off a conflict that lasted until our final day at Hogwarts. James was arrogant. He was good at everything he did, along with his friend Sirius Black, and they ruled the school. James became insufferable by his fifth year, and the Mauraders as they came to be called went out of their way to make my life a living hell. I wish I could tell you why, but I never knew. For seven long years they tormented me and did everything in their power to make me look like a fool." He glanced over at her. "Because of them; because of their treatment of me, I asked Lucius to teach me to dance. I wanted to go to at least one function with a date and naively thought that would be the answer." His eyes darkened. "Needless to say, it never happened. I graduated the least popular Wizard in the school without ever having a girl pay positive attention to me."

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. Now it was time for the hard part. "Lucius Malfoy was the only person that would stand up to Potter and his friends. As a result, I developed a close friendship with him and was incredibly loyal to him. After he graduated, he married Sirius' cousin Narcissa. Draco Malfoy was born a few years later. I am his godfather. I was working for the Ministry in their potions lab less than a year later when I was given the opportunity to come to Hogwarts as a teacher." He glanced over to her. Good. She was still attentive. "By that time the war had escalated but I had no real interest in what was happening outside my own little world. Coming to Hogwarts merely intensified my indifference."

"Lucius had been thrilled at my new position but it was some time before I found out why. A few months after the start of my first term, he came to me and informed me that the time of the Wizards was at hand. He had joined a group of people fighting for the purity of the Wizarding world and wanted me to meet them. He informed me that he had been with them for several years now and asked me if I would be interested in becoming a part of their group. He said my position at the school would make me invaluable." Snape was surprised at the bitterness he felt toward his friend. He sighed. "You have to understand, Ryselle, I would have done anything Lucius asked. I agreed, and he took me to meet Lord Voldemort. I had heard stories of him, of course, but had never really taken them seriously. For the first time in my life I was confronted with true evil. It was like talking to a demon. He was very persuasive and I found myself agreeing to do everything he asked. The burning of the Dark Mark was my first sign that things might not be as good as they seemed. I was too afraid to refuse however – I'm sure I would have died had I done so – and was used by the Dark Lord as a spy for the next two years."

The next part would be the most difficult. He feared her response. He had a feeling she would not understand everything that happened. "I…uh…I…" The words stuck in his throat. He felt her small hand slip into his.

"It is okay, Severus. Continue when you can."

She had no idea how much that simple gesture comforted him. He sighed. "The Dark Lord began asking me to do more in his service as time passed. First it was creating potions, which I was happy to do, but then there were poisons for his enemies and Dark elixirs meant to sustain his life or increase his power. At first I was only interested in the challenge. But it was not too long before I was almost completely indifferent to any thoughts of morality. It did not take much to convince me to begin going on raids with my new companions as a result. I began to do the things Death Eaters are so well known for." He looked at her. "I was a fool, Ryselle. An angry, bigoted fool desperate for friendship. I convinced myself they were right. Muggles were little better than animals and needed to be kept out of Wizarding affairs. They became less than nothing to me, and I almost came to savor the feeling of doing something to maintain the integrity of the Wizarding world. The only time I really had any trouble was when we were attacking other Wizards. Lucius told me it was an unpleasant necessity, and for a time I was content to believe him."

Snape reached over and grabbed a pillow, distracting himself for a short time from what he was about to tell her. If anything was going to drive her away, it would be this. For the first time he admitted to himself that he was interested in more than friendship with her. She had to know the truth. He fussed a bit more, trying to get comfortable as he wrestled with his conscience. There were things he'd avoided speaking of for years, but he got the feeling he needed to tell her everything now if he was ever going to get the chance. Looking into her eyes, he realized that there was no way he could hide it from her anyway.

Ryselle took his hand back once he was settled.

"One night took us on a raid to a familiar house. It took me a little while, but I recognized it after seeing a picture of myself and another wizard when we were boys. We were at the house of my childhood friend, Eadric Thorneby." He forced the words past the lump in his throat. Why was it so difficult to tell her of this? "We… they opposed the Dark Lord. Eadric felt segregation was the worst thing we could do to the Wizarding world. He was a progressive thinker. He said Muggleborn were just another step in the evolution of Wizardkind. We killed him for it. Him…" She would hate him now. "And his family."

Ryselle gasped. "No!"

The emotion was gone from his voice now. He was beyond feeling. "Lucius told me I had to be the one to do it. Other Death Eaters doubted my loyalty to the cause because I went on so few raids. This was my way to prove to myself to Voldemort." There were tears in his eyes now. It surprised him. He hadn't cried for them in over a decade. "It was the only time I wanted to say no, but I was too afraid. There was little choice – them or me." He hung his head. "I chose the selfish way."

He felt a gentle touch on his face as she raised his eyes to hers. "There was no other way, Severus. Had you refused, Eadric and his family would still be dead, but so would you. I doubt your friend would have wanted that."

"He saw me, Ryselle. That's the most terrible thing." The thing he never even told Dumbledore. "He knew who I was and what I had become. I saw it in his eyes." His voice faded to a whisper. "As I…killed him." Severus was surprised he still felt such pain at the memory. It had been close to twenty years, but he still remembered the look of betrayal and hatred in Eadric's eyes. Lucius had forced him to watch while his wife and children were killed. When Snape faced him, he could see the recognition. Fear guided him to raise his wand and utter the most terrible words he ever spoke in his life. A green flash and it was over. Lucius was proud of him.

He hated himself.

A soft floral scent surrounded him and he found himself wrapped in Ryselle's arms. She hugged him, her actions speaking louder than any words that she understood. He felt the wetness of tears on his face, and for the first time in more than a decade let them come. Maybe there was hope. Maybe they could still be friends. It was more than enough if this was any indication.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Severus. Some greater than others, but we all suffer for them. You suffer every moment of every day for yours. I see it in your eyes. The past is done. There is nothing you can do…"

"It's not the past, Ryselle." He felt her tense.

"What do you mean?"

Snape pulled away reluctantly, refusing to meet her eyes. "I am still a Death Eater. I do not accompany them out on raids because my position here is too valuable, but I am still responsible for far too much evil."

"Wha…why does Albus let you stay?"

He turned to face her. "Because I'm a spy. There is only so much I can do, but the information I gather for the Order is beyond value. I stay with them to help the Order of the Phoenix." For the first time in his life he wished for a touch of Gryffindor nobility. He didn't want her to think less of him, but the truth had to be said. "I wish I could tell you I decided to become a spy out of a sense of responsibility and honor, but the truth is that Eadric's death affected me far more than I could have imagined. I came to the realization I allied myself with the wrong side. I have no idea how Dumbledore found out, but shortly afterward he called me into his office and asked me if there was anything he could do to help me. Initially I said no, but then I realized what a horrible situation I was in. There was no escape, and he offered me the chance to make something of myself. I told him about the Dark Mark, and the things I had done over the previous two years."

He briefly wondered what she was thinking. "Albus encouraged me to turn the tables on Voldemort and become a spy for him. He taught me Occlumency, which I had a rudimentary knowledge of, but with his help became very skilled. I served as a spy for Dumbledore, eventually being inducted as a member of the Order. Imagine my surprise when I found out the Mauraders were already members and had been fighting Voldemort for years. Later that year I heard that Voldemort intended to kill the Potters, and informed Dumbledore. They were unfortunately too late. But somehow little Harry survived. Black chased after Peter Pettigrew and got himself sent to Azkaban, and Dumbledore took the young baby Potter to live with his Muggle relatives. With the destruction of Voldemort, I was free. But the Dark Mark never disappeared, so I knew his power was not broken. Lucius and many other Death Eaters went into hiding, completely unaware to this day that I betrayed them."

He grew silent, watching for a reaction. Snape was surprised at how much her opinion mattered to him. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. But there was something about the Gypsy that fascinated him. Despite the fact that he was always distant to her, she had always been friendly. It was difficult not to respond to that. She carried her friendliness with her like an aura. He ruefully admitted to himself that her exotic looks and that beautiful voice of hers added to his interest. She was brilliant and had a talent with Potions as well. While she didn't know as much as he did, she learned quickly and had brought him a few Gypsy recipes he hadn't known. Their duels were always challenging, something that had become rare to him over the years. He found himself actually looking forward to their time together.

He dared not hope she felt the same.

Ryselle gazed at him, her eyes unreadable. Her mind was processing the information he had given her. It would explain why Dumbledore trusted him even though he bore the Dark Mark. It surprised her. For all his behaviour, she would not have expected him to be a defender of the Light. But if he was telling the truth, he was doing more to fight Voldemort than she ever did. Despite all his dissembling, she knew he served the greater good with honor. She had to admire that. Suddenly it hit her.

"Oh goodness Severus. That is so dangerous! What will happen if you get caught? No, do not answer. I know. They will kill you." She looked into his eyes. "You know that, and yet you still go back." She placed her hand against his face. "Such bravery. Never doubt you serve the greater good, Severus Snape. What you do requires an incredible strength of will and allegiance to the Light."

He looked at her, surprised. "So you…don't hate me?"

She smiled. "No, Severus. I could never hate you." He could see the truth in her gaze. "You are the most honorable and brave man I have ever met." She smirked. How wonderful she looked when she gave him that wry smile. "Admittedly, you are a bit snide, sarcastic, and inimical, but you are also cunning, brilliant, and honorable. It is all part of your Slytherin charm."

Was she talking about him?

"Uh…" He was thunderstruck. What could he say?

Her silvery laugh filled the room. "Do not be surprised, Severus. I have no doubt Headmaster Dumbledore has told you similar things on a number of occasions. I imagine you simply were not listening very well."

"He's not a beautiful Gypsy professor." By Merlin, did he just say that out loud?

She blushed. "Why thank you, Severus. That is very kind of you."

He decided to take a chance. "It is not merely kindness, Ryselle." He took her hand. "It is the truth."

Now she appeared dumbstruck. How could she not know how she appeared to him? "You are brilliant, kind, and witty. I love the way you smile and live with such joy and passion. I find myself unable to refuse anything you desire. You…you are the most amazing woman I have ever met."

He hoped he hadn't said too much.

"Thank you, Severus. I…would not have expected you to think that of me."

"Then perhaps you are a bit denser than I thought. Maybe you should have been a Gryffindor."

His smirk told her he was not entirely serious.

"Perhaps. Slytherin most definitely suits you, however. Your silver tongue alone convinces me of that." It was true. If there was one thing that could convince her to accept what he was, it was the story he'd just shared. She knew it took a lot for him to trust her that way. She felt guilty for running out on him, but the sight of the Dark Mark had brought back too many painful memories. And that, more than anything she realized, was the problem.

"Severus." She spoke softly, her eyes catching his. "I…need some time to think this over. I believe you, do not get me wrong. But there are…issues…from the past that I need to deal with before I can sort out everything you have told me."

His lips curved up in a wry smile; the first Ryselle had ever seen. "I understand." He stood up, and turned to leave, regret etched in his features. "I hope one day you will tell me why you hate the Death Eaters so much."

She was surprised to feel pain at his disappointment. It would affect their friendship, she knew, and found herself pained at the thought of losing their closeness. Her heart cried out for her to prevent it. Abruptly, she came to a decision. She would deal with the consequences later. "Potions tomorrow?"

Snape was surprised at her question. "If you wish."

"I will see you then."

He nodded and turned to leave.

"I will tell you, Severus. I promise. I just cannot speak of it tonight."

He understood. Moments later he was gone and Ryselle sat back in her chair, thinking hard about what he had told her.

The next morning, Ginny decided to put extra effort into being nice to her boyfriend. She got the feeling she'd been a bit neglectful lately, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was not happy with him. She'd come to the conclusion that having SA as a friend was nice, but she really liked Julian as her boyfriend. They just needed to talk a bit about the doubts she'd been having.

As the day progressed, Draco Malfoy watched this interesting change with little amusement. It seemed the Weasley girl had finally decided to devote herself to her boyfriend, which meant sterner measures would be necessary to break them up. It was too bad the Weasel King seemed to like the ruddy prat. From what Ginny said, Julian Aldread was the only boy her brother ever remotely approved of.

That was not something he wanted to hear.

It was bad enough that she was dating the buggering git. But to have Weasley's approval as well? He needed to put a stop to this.

Things should have been different, he thought. When Blaise informed him two weeks ago that Ginny chose the Aldread boy over him, he was very upset. He hoped the uncertainty between them would have kept them apart. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor nature of the two overrode any sense of suspicion the Slytherins tried to create. SA was not enough of an issue to prevent Ginny and that bloody Gryffindor from bonding further. It wasn't hugely surprising. There was only so much influence he could exert through anonymous letters.

When the two Gryffindors got together, he'd actually secretly expected it. Ginny was not the type of girl to be happy with a relationship based entirely on the exchange of letters. She needed someone to hug, hold hands with, kiss… his eyes glinted angrily at the thoughts of that pathetic prat with his… with the Weasley girl. Not that he cared, but he wanted to win the bet. It was a matter of principle now. It was too bad his plan to keep them apart failed. Bloody Gryffindors.

Now he had to go through all the trouble of breaking the two up and make sure he was in no way implicated in the situation. Hell hath no fury like a Ginny scorned, and despite his arrogance, even he had no desire to dare it. He sighed. According to Blaise, Aldread was unwilling to confront Ginny about her secret admirer. Apparently he asked her about it and she told him that they were just friends. _Just friends,_ he thought derisively. 'Just friends' wasn't going to get him a bloody date for the Spring Ball. Something needed to be done and soon. Unfortunately it appeared that Julian Aldread was the one boy in school immune to Blaise's charms.

Blaise speculated that the only way to get Aldread to break up with Ginny would be to set some sort of betrayal up in such a way that he never wanted to speak with her again. Considering the personality of the ruddy git, that plan was just as likely to succeed as Blaise seducing him. They needed to work from the other angle. Ginny was far more temperamental. Something needed to be set up that would convince her that he was a total bastard and she wanted nothing to do with him.

The only way he could think of doing that would be a lust or love potion, and there were certain risks with that. Like expulsion. Even Snape wouldn't defend him if he gave another student an illegal potion. As a matter of fact, he'd probably encourage it. His father would probably be so delighted that he'd be a Death Eater by sundown. No, that wasn't the answer. He'd have to take some time to think on it. Maybe something would come to him while he waited for Icarus to return.

It surprised him to find himself actually looking forward to seeing the owl in his chambers. Ginny was an intriguing person and he was enjoying their correspondence. He learned a great deal about Ginny that he never would have guessed. Like the fact that she snuck into London once with a friend of hers to go 'clubbing'. Or that she secretly wanted to travel the world after she finished with school. There were so many ways in which she was perfect for him, but unfortunately she was still a Weasley.

The flutter of wings caught his attention and he couldn't help but grin at the sight of Icarus. He was relieved to notice that her letter was still sprayed with her distinctive perfume, and that the paper was still the pink tissue she was so fond of. Perhaps not all was lost.

_Dear SA,_

_I really have to say that the more I hear about your father, the more I want to know who he is so I can find him and hex him. Bohemian tradition? Where the bloody hell did he get that? Christmas is a time to get together with family and celebrate. You would probably love the Burrow during that time of year. My mother spends three days cooking and baking for Christmas and the day before. My father makes the most incredible spiced cider, and we all put special effort into cleaning up the house in preparation for guests. We're usually awakened on Christmas morning with something loud and obnoxious from one of my brothers. Next year, since it's my last year of school, I plan on going out with a bang. Fred and George have these fireworks that form different shapes and run around the house until they are dispelled. You'll probably remember them from last year when they buggered out of here thanks to that bat, Umbridge. They have special occasion versions now and I can't wait to see what they do this year._

_I wish you could join us. I bet you'd have a lot more fun with us than with a father who thinks Christmas is only for poor people. Oh, but to answer your question. My brother and I are taking Harry, Julian, and Hermione home with us over the holiday. Hermione's supposed to go with her parents for a short while before she joins us at the Burrow on the day before Christmas. I could talk to my parents if you're interested in coming along, but you do realize we'll have to meet before then._

_I really don't care what house you're in, if that's what you're worried about. My theory at this point is that you are in Slytherin. I'm curious to know who you could possibly be since I know most of the sixth and seventh year students._

_Hermione is looming over me with 'that look' on her face so I'm going to let you go. Time to slave away for my beloved professors._

_Ginny_

So she figured out he was in Slytherin. That was good. His hints worked, then. He thought she would be smart enough to catch that. He did actually wish for a tiny moment that he could take her up on her offer. Merlin knew Christmas at home was going to be a truly terrible experience, despite the presence of his godfather. But at least he could talk to the professor about Potions.

But that was a secondary issue. The first thing he had to do was make sure Aldread and Ginny did not get to spend the holiday together. He knew the sorts of things that happened during holidays and any intimacy between them would herald the end of any chance he might have with her. They were at a crucial point. Right now, she was accepting of his being a Slytherin. He had made a great deal of headway with her as SA, and she was talking to him like an actual person now, confiding things he honestly was very surprised about. In response, he found himself talking quite a bit more frankly with her than he had with anyone else.

He was not about to let some Lockhart-like Gryffindor spoil a good thing with his good looks, perfect hair, and sapphire blue eyes that he wanted to stab out with his wand. Bastard. Let him find another girl to turn his perfect smile on. Ginny was his. She just didn't know it yet.

The first step was to make Ginny realize how much she enjoyed her correspondence with SA. It was not going to be easy, but he decided he was going to stop writing her altogether and see how she responded. If he read her right, she would begin to get upset and edgy by the end of the week. They usually wrote three to five times a week. Along with this tactic was the hardest, which would be ignoring her letters. He was going to return them unopened and watch how she reacted to that. He had a feeling that would affect her far worse than his not writing her.

The third step was the most risky. Icarus was going to start bringing letters to Blaise.

If there was one thing he learned about Ginny Weasley over the years, it was that she had quite the temper on her. Blaise had been throwing herself at Aldread since the night they talked, and he obliviously acted like she was just being friendly. He knew Ginny saw something different. Things had gotten quite hostile between the two young women with Blaise trying to beat Ginny and win over Julian on one hand, and Ginny trying to keep her boyfriend out of the Slytherin girl's clutches on the other. It was going to be quite lively once Ginny noticed Blaise was getting letters with his distinctive markings.

Maybe he should write her one last letter to tell her he met someone who really caught his interest. That would get her thoughts going in the right direction.

Perfect.

Draco ruthlessly crushed the surge of guilt he felt about what his plan was going to do to Ginny. She'd been very happy with Julian and he was getting ready to destroy a very promising relationship over a bet. A little voice in his head told him he would be better off just explaining the situation to her than going along with this plan. He told the voice to bugger off.

The next day was quite lively for several people at Hogwarts. Usually Monday was greeted by Ginny Weasley with a grin and a reluctant acceptance of Potions as their first class. Today there was no grin, despite her boyfriend's cheerful greeting, and as the week progressed, it got worse. Things came to a head Saturday when she received an odd letter from SA.

_Ginny,_

_I have great news. I have finally managed to meet a girl who has caught my attention. I know you are happy with Julian and because of that, you will be happy for me. You've been such a great friend, but I now understand why you wanted to be with your boyfriend so badly. I've always had certain difficulties with girls and now it's nice to know there's one out there that I can trust. Thank you for being such a great friend._

_SA_

Ginny gaped at the missive in disbelief. Was she reading that correctly? Was SA going to stop writing her? She felt a surge of anger. For weeks she'd been writing him, despite her feelings for Julian, thinking that they at least had a good friendship going. Now he had the audacity to essentially tell her he wasn't going to write her anymore because he met a girl? Prat. Men really were bastards.

That day found Ginny in a rage few had ever witnessed. Draco Malfoy was delighted to see how it was getting to her – even to the point of making her snap at her boyfriend. Two days later, when Blaise received the first letter, Ginny snapped. It was all Draco could do not to smirk as she stormed out of the Great Hall.

Hermione was concerned about her friend and decided to go after her. Harry looked at her questioningly and she motioned toward the doors.

"I'm going to talk with her. I'll see you in class," she said softly.

Harry nodded and wished her luck. He had a feeling she was going to need it.

Hermione found Ginny outside, stomping toward the Quidditch field. She ran to catch up with her and almost pulled her wand when the younger girl rounded on her.

"What the fuck are you doing out here, Hermione?"

"I came to see if you're okay."

"Do I look okay? How do you think I am? I'm royally pissed, that's what I am!"

Hermione looked confused. "Why are you so upset, Ginny? Are you and Julian having problems?" She took a step back at the rage in her friend's eyes.

"No, 'Mione, we're not having problems. Everything's perfect. So bloody perfect! Julian's great, I'm great, and now my secret admirer's great. We're all just one great bloody crowd!"

"What? What do you mean, your secret admirer? I thought Julian was SA."

"HA! Like Julian would ever do something like that. He's a great guy, 'Mione, but he has the creative urges of a fucking Ravenclaw. I swear I feel like I'm ready to go insane sometimes! He's sweet, caring, kind, friendly, and so fucking exasperating I think I might strangle him! He's too much! Too noble! Too gallant! It's like being with a fairy tale prince."

"And this is a bad thing?"

"You know, at least my secret admirer has flaws. He's snide, sarcastic, and has a huge issue with loads of people. He had an unhappy homelife and doesn't always do everything he should to be the perfect man. But he's more real than Julian any day."

"Then I hope the two of you will be happy."

Hermione and Ginny whirled to see Julian slowly walking towards them. Both were horrified to realize he probably heard the majority of Ginny's rant. Suddenly Ginny felt like running away. The look in his eyes was enough to make even the bravest Gryffindor cringe.

"Hermione. Ginny."

"Julian. Uh… I'm going to leave now," said Hermione while creeping away. "I'll… uh… be in the… never mind. You guys don't care anyway." She ran.

Ginny and Julian stood there for a few moments, staring at each other in disbelief. Like a dash of cold water it hit Ginny what she said and she had no idea what to do to make things better. His eyes had lost their sparkle and as he looked at her, she realized it was her fault. She hurt him in ways she never imagined.

What the bloody hell came over her?

"Julian…" He cut her off with a gesture.

"Please, Ginny, I'd rather not stand here and listen to you spin a tale for me about your feelings for me and this secret admirer of yours. I thought giving you the chance to explain yourself would be enough, but obviously there was more to it than mere friendship."

"Julian! I…"

"It doesn't matter, Ginevra! You made your feelings for me quite clear at the same time you were waxing poetic about this mysterious man. I apologize for not living up to your expectations. I'm afraid I was under the delusion that things were going well…"

"They were! I just…"

"Save it for someone who wishes to listen, Ginny. I have watched for the past week while you flew into a temperamental fit after your secret admirer stopped writing you. I could probably have disappeared for a week and you wouldn't have noticed as long as those letters continued. Blaise was right, wasn't she? You were keeping SA on the side in case things didn't work out with us. Or was the other way around?" For the first time since she'd met him, Julian glared. "You didn't even give me a bloody chance. I've never had a girlfriend, Ginny. I was taking care of my mother while other boys my age discovered the joys of girls. You never even bothered to try and understand. You didn't need to. You had SA."

"Julian, wait…"

"Well, Ginny, I must say that this is a first for me. Never in my life have I felt the need to hex someone within an inch of their life. Until now. As I said. I hope you are happy with your fantasy man. It is unfortunate that I am not he."

His eyes were cold as he said it, and then he walked away. Ginny knew at that moment how Harry must have felt when Hermione left the Burrow during the summer. The despair hit her like a Bludger. With a strangled cry she ran to the Pitch and collapsed on the ground next to the bleachers.

The tears, when they came, were bitter and cold.

Blaise Zabini was nearby watching everything from underneath Draco Malfoy's Invisibility Cloak. She smirked at the sight of the Gryffindor girl's breakdown. She almost felt sorry for the girl. Malfoy's spell worked exactly the way he said it would and the little Gryffindor princess never even knew there was something wrong. She smirked. Now it would be all too easy to get Julian right where she wanted him. Even he would be unable to resist her charms after a breakup like that. She'd been telling him for weeks that there was something wrong. Now he would probably fall all over himself with gratitude, babbling about love and trust.

It's too bad he was such a sentimentalist. He'd make an appropriate husband with his family's assets, but she could never live with his attitude. Adrian Pucey was not the nicest guy in the world, but he was wealthy, powerful, and great in bed. And now, thanks to Julian, he was jealous as well. Once she seduced the boy it would only be a matter of time before Pucey found out. All she needed to do was arrange for him to 'happen' across her and the Gryffindor heartthrob and all her planning would pay off. Adrian would sweep in and 'rescue' her while Julian learned the true value of trust.

Stupid Gryffindor.

Satisfied that Malfoy's plan worked, Blaise headed back to the school in search of Julian. She had a feeling he would be in need of some serious comfort.

After Hermione left Julian and Ginny, she immediately returned to Gryffindor in hopes of finding Harry and Ron. While Ron might be behaving as a total prat, she got the feeling he would set everything aside to comfort his sister when she returned to the tower. Things were not going to end well for her and her no doubt soon-to-be-former boyfriend.

What the bloody hell came over her? For several weeks she'd been over the moon about Julian and could talk of nothing else except how wonderful he was. If she'd known SA was someone other than Julian, she would have immediately advised Ginny to step back and think about what she was doing. What was that girl thinking? It's like the past week she'd changed from the Ginny Weasley she knew for five years, to some jealous and hostile bint who seemed to be obsessed with someone not her boyfriend.

What the hell?

Something wasn't right about the situation. She didn't know what it was, but the Ginny she knew would never have said those things about anyone. Not even Draco Malfoy. So what happened to change all that? It all started the day SA stopped writing her. She knew about it because Lavender told her that Ginny was in a bad mood because she didn't get her Monday morning owl. As the day progressed, things got worse and even Julian wasn't able to bring her out of it. That was when she got the feeling there was something bad going on between the two of them. She thought Julian was responsible for the owls – he'd never disabused her of the notion – and for some reason decided to stop sending them. However, he was as attentive as ever which made her suspect there was something else going on.

She had no idea what happened to make things worse, but a week after the letters stopped, Ginny flew into a rage that got worse until everything apparently came to a head today. Why Ginny flipped out she also didn't know, but she was determined to find out what was going on. Perhaps their relationship could be salvaged.

If not, perhaps their friendship might recover.

The boys were nowhere to be found, so she decided to go up and do some research in the library. Maybe there was a book on odd behavioural changes that could give her a clue about what happened to her friend.

Meanwhile across the castle, Draco Malfoy was having the time of his life. Blaise had told him what happened between the Gryffindor prat and the Weasley girl. Things were going exactly as he planned. Even he was stunned it worked. Apparently she was as attached to SA as he believed her to be. Perfect. Now he just needed to get her to transfer that attachment to him. He suspected it would not be as difficult as one would think. It was time for the next phase of his plan.

During the next few days while waiting for Ginny to cool down, Draco reflected on his motivations for his behaviour with the Weasley girl. He had gotten to the point where even he admitted he was interested in something more than a short fling. She was a pure-blood, so at least he would not be lowering himself too much, and she really was very different from the rest of her family. He honestly wasn't lying when he told her Arthur Weasley would be perfect for the position of Minister of Magic. The man was honest and simplistic, but the Wizarding world needed someone like that in a time like this. At least Mr. Weasley didn't try and hide the fact that they were at war.

Ginny obviously inherited a great deal from her father, but it seemed like her mother influenced her greatly as well. Everyone had heard stories of Mrs. Weasley's infamous temper, and he joyfully remembered the Howler Weasley got his second year. That was one of his fondest memories.

He was fascinated by her close relationship with her family, and her total commitment to her friends. How someone could open up like that boggled the mind, but she seemed better for it and he almost wished sometimes for her to turn that absolute trust toward him. Not that he deserved it, said the evil little voice in his head. He could swear it was growing louder.

Ginny really was an amazing girl. When he took the time to compare her to people like Blaise and Pansy, it became apparent that she was misplaced because of her family name. Someone like that should never have been born a Weasley.


	12. One Thing Leads to Another

Thank you all so much for reading and for your positive support. This is quite the story to write, but I hope I am keeping it interesting. Please continue to read and review. It's the highlight of my day.:) As always, thanks to Vaughn for being such a great beta.

Alayneni – yeah, I feel really bad for doing all this to Julian, but I told him he would have a hard time when he signed up for this part, so he has no one to blame but himself. Well, maybe me just a little bit.

* * *

Ron ducked as another Bludger flew at him, temper rising as he saw his sister smirk at him before responding to Warren's inquiry. This was the fourth time this practice she "had an oops" and hit the heavy ball at him. She said she was just practicing her moves for the next game with Slytherin. Bloody hell. He couldn't believe Warren was falling for it.

He had no idea what was up with her. Ever since that day in the Great Hall, she behaved as if everything he did was a personal affront to her. It wasn't his fault she had a falling out with her boyfriend. Less than a week had gone by since, and not only was she abusing him, she still refused to tell him what happened. He was really confused. They seemed to be getting along so well, but then something occurred to turn Ginny into a harpy and Julian into a ponce. How could he call himself a man if he acted like that?

Hermione was quick to stop her best friend from interfering in his sister's problems, and had assured him it was not the result of some dastardly deed by the princely Gryffindor. Not that it stopped him from glaring suspiciously at the boy. He could not help but wonder what happened. Unfortunately, no one would tell him anything. Julian was moping about the school, tragically depressed with the half the girls in Hogwarts chasing after him in hopes of raising his spirits. All of them wanted to comfort him, even the Slytherins (ew), but from what Ron could see Julian was simply not interested. His sister, on the other hand, just seemed to be in a constant fit of temper.

"BUGGER! GINNY, STOP IT!" Ron barely avoided the Quaffle, this time, as it made a beeline for his head. What the bloody hell was she doing?

"TIME OUT!" Warren gestured for everyone to join him on the ground. Once everyone settled, his eyes raked across the team, coming to settle on Ron.

Wonderful.

"This has got to be the worst practice I've ever had the displeasure of seeing. Where is the team that defeated Slytherin not a month ago? What happened to the players that ground Ravenclaw into dust? At this rate we won't be able to win against Hufflepuff, much less anyone else!" He began to pace. "Ron, what is wrong with you today? You haven't caught the Quaffle yet and have been far too skittish about the Bludgers. Do you honestly think the Slytherins won't be trying to knock you off your broom? You're better than this. I've seen you stop some very difficult shots. I want that back. We need you to be at your best."

Ron glowered.

"Harry, I think you need to be a bit more proactive in finding the Snitch. The last few times have been a bit too close for comfort. I know those eagle eyes of yours can do better."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Ginny. You're a Chaser not a Beater. I agree that your brother needs practice dodging Bludgers, but you need to continue practicing putting the Quaffle through the goal. Maybe the two of you should face off and do some extra practice while the rest of us go to the other end and continue our regular drills. Jack, why don't you join them and make it challenging?"

Ron rolled his eyes while his sister smirked. Bloody hell. He was in for it now. Ginny was going to be doing her best to humiliate him with the Quaffle, and Jack was probably going to take a great deal of pleasure in trying to knock him off his broom. Thank Merlin Hermione was watching. At least she knew the spell to slow his fall.

Warren continued his motivational speech for a few minutes more, pinpointing more weaknesses and offering suggestions on how to compensate. Moments later, they were in the air, and Ron's torment had begun.

Hermione was sitting in the bleachers studying like she usually did while Ron, Ginny, and Harry were at Quidditch practice. If she were honest with herself, she would admit it was mostly due to her desire to watch Harry fly. She glanced up. He was so graceful in the air. If there was one thing Harry did like a natural, besides surviving Voldemort, it was flying. She loved to watch him like this. When he was in the sky, he was free of his many burdens. The smile on his face was joyous and it was all she could do not to wave at him to get his attention hoping to turn that regard to her. No, she thought. He was focused on Quidditch, right now, and she had no desire to interrupt. This was his time.

Hermione started when she heard the sound of someone stomping up the stairs to the Gryffindor section of the stands. Rarely did anyone else come out here to watch, and she was typically the only one from her house. Her eyebrow arched as she saw it was Julian. He paused when he noticed her, but then moved to join her at the welcoming gesture. It saddened her to see the hollow look in his eyes as he gazed at her.

"Hello, Julian."

"Good afternoon, Hermione."

"How are you doing?" As soon as she said it, Hermione regretted her words.

He snorted. "As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"I… I'm sorry, Julian. I…"

"No, Hermione. There is no need for you to be sorry. You are merely being a concerned friend." He flashed her a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"Especially since I'm not flinging myself at you in hopes of comforting you."

"Ugh. Indeed. Although I imagine it might be rather entertaining to be chased around the castle by Harry for a few days."

She laughed. "I think the hexes might make it a sight more entertaining than you might want."

The atmosphere between them relaxed.

"So… what brings you out here?"

"The same as you, I would imagine. I am merely watching our team practice."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But I've always wanted to."

"Why didn't you try out for the team?"

"Seeing as our major opponent is the Slytherin team, I highly doubt Warren would have been willing to take that big of a gamble."

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to play one of the Weasley games."

He looked at her, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you… oh, bugger. I'm sorry, Julian. I wasn't thinking… again… I thought…"

"I do not think my presence would be welcome at the Weasleys, Hermione, but I thank you for thinking of me."

"Julian… uh… I think you'd be surprised. Ginny… well… she really regrets what happened the other day. I don't think she was herself…" Her voice faded away as she noticed the anger in his eyes. "Er…"

"Surprised would be the least of my reactions."

"It was foolish of her, Julian, to talk with you that way…"

He interrupted. "'Fools live to regret their words; wise men to regret their silence.'"

"Will Henry."

He nodded. "I do not know if I am a wise man or a fool, Hermione, but I know that I have many regrets – the primary one being how I handled my relationship with Ginny."

Hermione reached out and took his hand.

"I was always taught for as long as I can remember that above all, one must be a gentleman. A gentleman holds the door for a lady. A gentleman pulls out her chair, brings her flowers, treats her like a princess. But a true gentleman never troubles a lady with his doubts and fears." He sighed. "I thought it the better part of valor to behave as a gentleman, rather than confess to Ginny that I was unsure how to act around her. I suppose I erred in my judgment."

"Oh Julian. I'm so sorry. Ginny's… well… she's always been very down to earth, and I think the fact that you never seemed to have any doubts or troubles bothered her. It made her feel inadequate."

He looked up to a speck in the sky. "How could she possibly feel inadequate? She is… perfect." His gaze returned to Hermione. "Even in her flaws she is perfect."

Hermione glanced at the book in her lap. She really wanted to tell him her doubts. She began again. "Uh, Julian…"

"Yes?"

"I… don't get angry. You need to hear this." He gazed at her curiously. "I… I'm not sure Ginny was being herself that day."

"So you said. What do you mean?"

She held up her book – Make Friends and Influence People: 101 Ways to Manipulate People with Magic. "I think I found something in here that might explain her behaviour last week."

He looked interested.

"It's an odd spell, really. Very minor. So much so that it wouldn't trigger the wards at the school. It's like a prank, but when used correctly, can be very devastating."

"Which spell?"

"The Tempero Charm."

"Which is…"

"A spell that causes the victim to be rash and prone to losing their temper."

"So essentially it makes a person do things they ordinarily would not do, but nothing against their will."

"I'm afraid not. But it does impair their judgment." She frowned. "I guess it's a bit like alcohol. Short lived and… wait. I don't see how it could… unless…"

"Could what?"

"I don't see how it could have affected her so severely, unless…"

"Hermione, I admire you, respect you, and consider you a friend, but I am beginning to experience the desire to strangle you."

"Oh! Sorry. No, I was just thinking out loud. Did you notice anything odd before her blow up last week?"

"You mean aside from the fact that she was increasingly foul tempered as it progressed?"

"Well, that's a big one. No, I mean did you see anyone around with a wand?"

"We are in a school full of witches and wizards, Hermione. Of course I did."

"Pointed at her?"

"Pointed at… wait, you think someone cast this spell on her?"

"Not just cast. Kept casting. If the spell was cast every twelve hours for five days, it could certainly explain her loss of temper with you."

"Or she could merely have been fed up with my so-called perfection and nobility."

Hermione winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"Julian, I…"

"It is of no import, Hermione. I thank you for your efforts, but I do not believe it will change things even if it is true. The spell merely releases the restraints on one's emotions. Despite everything, she still felt that way. It was simply a matter of time and circumstances."

Hermione sighed. "I… I suppose you're right. I just…"

He squeezed her hand. "You're a wonderful person, Hermione, and I know you wish to help. Perhaps your efforts might be better turned to something a bit closer. I do not think that Harry realizes the mistake he is making."

Julian turned away before she could say anything, but she caught a glimpse of his sorrowful tears. He removed his hand from hers, and silently left the stands, leaving her to stare despondently after him. It was only after he was gone that she realized practice had ended and the sky was empty.

Bugger. Not only did she miss Harry leaving the field, but she was unable to help Ginny and Julian resolve their difficulties. What was it about this secret admirer that she liked so much more than her former boyfriend? Why did Ginny let her think it was Julian? Why did he, for that matter? There was something truly odd about this situation. Hermione stood up to leave when a shadow fell across her face. She looked up into the smiling countenance of Harry Potter.

"Hey, 'Mione."

"Harry! What are you doing up there?"

His green eyes sparkled impishly. "Hoping to talk a beautiful woman into taking a ride on my broomstick."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Uh…"

"I'd like to show you something."

An imp of the perverse possessed her and she tossed him a smirk. "Really? Does it involve your broom… stick?"

Harry gaped at her, shocked. "Er…"

Her peals of laughter echoed off the stands. "I'm just kidding, Harry. Honestly! What do you want to show me?"

Now Harry was blushing. "Uh… just… something." He reached out his hand to her. "Come on, 'Mione. Hop on."

"Harry, you know I…"

"Please, 'Mione," he wheedled. "Please come with me. I promise you'll be fine."

In the five years she had known him, there had never been a time when she could remember refusing him – especially when he used that tone. Before she knew it, Hermione had clambered up on to one of the benches and let Harry pull her on to his Firebolt. They were off in a flash.

"HARRY!" She anxiously gripped his waist tighter.

"Don't worry, 'Mione! It's okay. We're not going that fast!" One bonus Harry had not counted on was the feeling of Hermione pressed up against him as she held him in a crushing grip. If she were not so afraid, he would take her flying for hours just for the pleasurable warmth of her body against his. _Voldemort really needs to die_, he thought. Then he could be with her in the way he wanted.

They landed on a small cliff located halfway up the nearby mountain overlooking Hogwarts. The school could be seen in the distance as a gathering of twinkling lights and tall shadows. It was dusk, now, shortly before dinner, and Hermione found herself nervous about being so far from the castle with Death Eaters on the loose.

"Dumbledore cast protective spells over the area for me, 'Mione. Don't worry. If anything happens, hold on to me and we'll be transported away." He grinned at her confused look. "Have a seat and I'll explain. This is a great place to watch the sun set."

Hermione joined Harry on a narrow outcropping near the edge of the cliff. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she took his hand and sat next to him. She relaxed when he put his arm around her. "After Sirius died, I was rather… upset to say the least. Dumbledore felt terrible, and after I regained my senses, we talked about the things that had made me so angry and frustrated throughout the year."

She squeezed his hand and snuggled a little closer to him. "I'm glad, Harry. I was really concerned that you would never work things out with the headmaster."

"It helped that he was so willing to consider some of my requests. Like this. Bill told me about this place during the summer and I was able to talk Headmaster Dumbledore into making it in to a protected refuge for me." He chuckled. "You should have heard Snape. He was royally pissed off. 'How can you give Potter everything he wants' and all that rubbish."

"Why did he tell Snape?"

"So he could cast some of the wards on this area. He's really good at protective magic, from what I understand."

"According to his records, he probably really would make a great Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He got some of the highest NEWTs in the history of Hogwarts in that and Potions."

"Well isn't that nice. 'Mione, I really don't want Snape, of all people, teaching me how to defend myself against dark spells."

"Why not? He seems really familiar with dark magic, Harry. I think he'd do a really good job."

"Yeah, by hexing us and letting you figure out how to fix it."

Hermione laughed. "True. His teaching methods do leave something to be desired."

"Besides, I like our current professor."

"So to I, Harry. Does anyone else know about this?"

He shook his head. "I make sure to Disillusion myself before heading out this way. No one's seen me so far, and hopefully we can keep it that way. Dumbledore said I would have to stop coming here if anyone but you and Ron found out about this place."

"Why didn't you tell Ron?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Hermione, he's being a rather large prat this year. I'd really like to have at least one place I can relax." Hermione reached over to squeeze him. "Okay. Make that two."

Even in the dim light he could see her blush. He leaned over. "I love you, 'Mione."

Smiling brilliantly, Hermione shifted herself closer to Harry, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He was surprised at first, but then enthusiastically responded. By the time they separated, Hermione was in his lap and they were both breathless. He was enraptured by the sparkle in her eyes.

"I love you too, Harry. No matter what."

"'Mione… I wish…"

She touched her fingers to his lips. "I know, Harry. I'll wait for you. I promise."

Harry reached out to gently run his fingers through her wild hair. Despite all its bushiness, it was soft as silk and he reveled in the peaceful feeling it brought him just to be here with her, tenderly showing his affections. He loved her, and he hated to see the shadows of pain in her eyes every time he looked at her. Warmth spread through him as she snuggled closer, shifting herself farther into his arms. The two of them stayed in that position for some time, until Harry saw the flash of sparks over the castle. It was time to go inside.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"Yes, love?"

He smiled, gently kissing her temple. "We have to go in now."

With a sigh, she pulled away from him. "Too bad", she pouted.

"We'll do this again, love. I promise."

Her face turned mock-stern. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Potter."

Feeling rushed back into his legs as she stood. Perhaps holding her in his lap for over an hour was less than wise. Looking at her, he mentally shook his head. No. He could never regret this. Even as he stood up and lost his balance.

"Harry!"

Hermione grabbed at him, hoping to prevent his fall. Unfortunately, she apparently forgot that he was more than six inches taller and outweighed her by a fair bit. As she wrapped her arms around his firm, muscular torso, the thought that Quidditch was very good for him if it kept him so toned.

Then he fell on her.

""Mione!" Harry and Hermione fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He was on top of her, not that she minded, and was slightly stunned by their impact with the ground. When he looked up to see if she was okay, he found himself lost in her dark amber eyes.

"'Mione…" he whispered.

"Harry…" She gently pushed his hair out of his eyes, losing herself in an emerald sea of emotion.

Unable to stop himself, Harry lowered his face to hers and gently kissed her. He felt her hands snake up his back into his hair, pulling him closer as she opened her mouth to him. Harry forgot completely about the world around them, absorbed only in the beautiful witch beneath him. His body began to respond to her proximity, causing him to kiss her frantically, his passion igniting hers. Hermione's tongue dueled his, each heated caress bringing them closer to losing control. It was when she wrapped her legs around him that the warning bells sounded and he wrenched himself back to reality.

Panting, he pulled away. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly.

Hermione's eyes were glazed with passion and she too was breathing quickly, her lips puffy and red from his kisses. She looked delightfully mussed with her hair spread around her like a halo of bronze.

"We… we need to get back to the castle."

She nodded, unable to speak.

Carefully, this time, he stood up, and then held his hand out to her.

"Thank you," she said softly. Somehow he knew she was not talking about his helping her stand.

"Come on, love, let's go home."

Brown eyes met green and she smiled. "I am home, Harry, as long as I'm with you."

Harry's heart was full when they returned to the school, and it was all he could do to stop himself from running through the halls, screaming out his love for the beautiful witch at his side. Instead, he settled for holding her hand.

Shortly before they went inside the tower, Harry gently kissed her cheek. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too."

"After you," he said with a bow.

Harry was unsurprised to see Ron in the common room, waiting for them. He looked very upset, and he felt somewhat guilty for abandoning his friend at Quidditch practice. Ginny was nowhere in sight, nor was anyone else. Uh oh.

Hermione failed to notice Ron's glare as she skipped upstairs to get her books. She was smiling and happy for a change, a fact that did not escape their ginger-haired friend.

"So," began Ron once Hermione was out of sight, "where have you two been?"

Harry frowned, annoyed at the inquisition. "Out."

His curt response only served to anger the Gryffindor further. "Out? What the hell does that mean, Harry?"

"It means that Hermione and I were out, Ron. As in out somewhere that is not your business."

The freckled face darkened further. "Not my business? In case you forget, Harry, she's my best friend too! I deserve to know what you two have been up to."

"Ron…" Harry began warningly.

"Oh shut it, Harry. It's not enough that you're putting her in danger with your antics. You have to keep secrets between us as well. Am I no longer welcome in your little group of friends as well? Is 'the Weasel' on the outs with the great Harry Potter?"

Harry stared at his friend, shocked. Where did all this come from, he wondered. "What do you mean, Ron? On the outs? Bloody hell, you'd think I was shagging your girlfriend or something by the way you're behaving."

Ron glared at him. "Is that where you were? Shagging Hermione? I thought you had better judgment than that, Harry."

Fire burned in Harry's eyes at the accusation. "Even if we were, Ron, it's none of your business."

"Rubbish! It is my business. In case you forgot, I'm the one that liked her in the first place! You only noticed her because I did!"

Harry interrupted. "I noticed her, Ron, because she is extraordinary. Not only is she intelligent, but she is beautiful, talented, and the most amazing woman I've ever met. You had nothing to do with that. In fact, had I listened to what you were saying, I imagine my opinion would be very different considering how you talk about her."

"I thought you wanted to protect her," Ron accused.

"I do." Harry sighed. "Look, Ron, I know I can't be with her the way I want to – as her boyfriend. But I can't live without being with her in some fashion. She's as vital to me as breathing. Can you truly begrudge us a small bit of time together? It's all we can have right now."

"And her safety? What about that? How do you know no one saw you?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore made sure we were hidden and protected." He gripped Ron's arm. "I promise I took every precaution to keep her safe. I know you worry, but…"

Ron sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I know, Harry. I… I'm sorry. I just…"

"You worry. I know. I love her too, Ron. I'm not going to let anything happen to her. Not as long as I live."

"Just… be careful, Harry."

Harry smiled at his friend, happy now that everything was okay again. He doubted this would be the last he would hear from Ron on this subject, but for now, at least, things were back to normal.

"Oy, where's 'Mione? Is she writing the books her self?"

Ginny came bouncing down the stairs. "No, Ronald, we're coming now." Hermione followed quietly behind her. Harry caught her eyes, and he knew by the look in them that she heard everything. He gave her a tentative smile.

"I'll wait until I graduate to start writing textbooks, Ron. That way you might be capable of passing our classes."

Ron winced. "Ouch, 'Mione, that hurt."

"No kidding, mate."

"It was meant to, Ron, and don't call me that!" Hermione sat down and pulled out her master scheduler. Ignoring the groans, she reminded them of the upcoming NEWTS and the tests they had in Transfiguration and Potions. Resigning themselves to a night of hard studying, the group settled down and focused on their bushy-haired taskmaster.

It was going to be a long night.

Several days later, there was a meeting at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. It was near the end of November, shortly before the holiday season. It was an exciting time for the Gryffindor Trio and Ron's sister. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were to be there, against Molly's objections, since they were all very much involved in what was going on. This was their first meeting as provisional members of the Order, and it was all they could do to wait until the evening. Hermione was slightly upset by the fact that they were given detention with McGonagall to cover their absence, but even she could not help but be thrilled at their new status. Shortly after dinner, which was sparse thanks to the promise of a meal by Molly Weasley, the four students portkeyed to Sirius' house for the meeting.

The Black Family Manor was still headquarters, to Severus Snape's unending irritation. Fortunately, the Order did not meet often, but when they did, he felt like hexing everyone in sight. He hated being in that drooling canine's house. It was almost too bad the former Gryffindor left it to Dumbledore. The house was the safest place outside of Hogwarts, however, and it certainly beat having Narcissa or Bellatrix inherit it.

Severus sighed as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer it. He refused simply to walk in like most of the other members. He never felt welcome here.

The door opened, and Arthur Weasley motioned for him to come in. "Come in, Severus. Come in. We're just getting ready to get started. Fine timing, I must say."

"Thank you, Arthur." He would have used a word other than 'fine'.

"The gang's all here and in the dining room, and dinner is ready so you shouldn't have to wait too long for the meeting to begin."

"One can hope."

Severus stalked inside, displeased he had misjudged the timing. Once again, it appeared he arrived too early to avoid the gratuitous meal Molly insisted on feeding the group. She would no doubt flutter about as she always did, trying to encourage him to join them. _Not bloody likely_, he thought.

Snape entered the dining room to find the group already seated. The heavy scent of food filled the air and he could see everyone already had a full plate. Arthur went over to join his wife at the end of the table. Nearby sat their sons Bill, Charlie, and Ron. He frowned at the Gryffindor Prefect's presence, and then his expression darkened further when he saw Harry Potter seated next to Ryselle. They were chatting about something she seemed to find amusing. His eyes glinted. The boy needed to learn respect for his teachers.

Hermione Granger sat next to Potter and was carrying on a conversation with Remus Lupin. He heard the word 'werewolf' mentioned and assumed the nosy Gryffindor was questioning Lupin about his condition. She too needed to learn more respect. Bloody know-it-all. Tonks, Moody, and Dumbledore were conversing near the head of the table, but looked up as he walked in. Dumbledore nodded to him and motioned for him to take a seat. Snape's eyes glided over the table, observing that the rest of the table was nearly filled with other members of the Order. He gave them a polite nod, and then moved to an empty seat. To his annoyance/pleasure, the only available place was next to Professor Spellsinger.

"Good evening, Severus."

Curse that melodious voice of hers. "Good evening, Ryselle. I trust things are well?"

She nodded, flashing him a smile. "Nothing blew up today in class, so I believe that qualifies as well."

"Reading assignment today?"

She laughed. "No. They were practicing the Silver Arrow Hex."

He raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I take it Longbottom and Weasley were absent, then."

She swatted at him playfully, laughing. "Severus! They did fine. You should have more faith in the students."

He rolled his eyes. "When they deserve it, I will."

Headmaster Dumbledore cleared his throat for attention, interrupting Ryselle's response. "Welcome, my friends. Tonight we gather to renew our vow to fight the darkness with all our might. I would like to thank our friends Molly and Tonks for the delicious feast before us. Tuck in!"

Tonight's dinner had been prepared through the joint effors of Tonk and Molly Weasley. Ryselle eyed the food with curiosity, wondering what she was getting herself in to. It was a small pie about the size of her hand, filled with some sort of steaming mixture of gravy, meat, and onions. Molly called it a 'Cornish Pasty' and was very proud of her and Tonks' ability to prepare the food without magic. According to Remus, the Weasley twins challenged them to do it. Ryselle briefly wondered where they were. Glancing around the table, she was pleased to see no one seemed to be suffering for the experience. Taking her courage in hand, she took a small bite of the hot British pie. Ryselle decided it was good, if a bit on the oniony side, and reminded her of American pot pies. She carefully began to nibble away at the rest of the pie, careful not to burn her tongue again.

_Odd_, she thought. _Why was Severus not eating_? It seemed strange to her that he was the only one without something on his plate.

"Are you not hungry, Severus?"

"Uh, not particularly, Pr… Ryselle. But thank you."

"It is very good. You should at least try it." She broke off a small piece, failing to notice the grimace on Snape's face or the smirk on Lupin's.

How could he explain to her that he refused to eat in Black's house? She knew of their mutual hostility – somehow he found himself regaling her with a few stories of his sordid past – but even he had to admit it was very one-sided now that the bloody prat was dead. Further explanation would only make him look like a petulant child. He found himself reluctant to ruin her opinion of him. It was a miracle she still spoke with him about finding out he was a Death Eater.

He reluctantly accepted the offering. "Uh… thank you." Hating the fact that he was the center of attention now, he carefully placed the bite in his mouth, hoping to avoid being burned. To his surprise, it was not only cool enough to eat, but actually tasted good.

Bill handed Remus a Knut. "I guess you were right. She really can talk anyone into anything."

Snape frowned at the comment and prepared to dress the two men down when Ryselle interrupted.

"Perhaps you are hungry now?" It was obvious she failed to observe his irritation.

Not wanting to be rude, they were colleagues after all, he fumbled for an excuse, "Uh…"

"Come now, Severus. Surely you do not wish to insult Molly and Tonks by refusing their delicious meal?"

"Uh…"

"That's all right, Ryselle. Severus usually doesn't eat with us. We understand." Thank god Molly was on his side.

Ryselle looked at him curiously. "Really? Why ever not?"

Perhaps it was not so good having Molly as an ally.

"Uh…"

"Severus is usually fairly late, Ryselle. He eats beforehand so he doesn't make us wait."

"Ah. That is very thoughtful. So you have already eaten, Severus?"

The lie felt heavy and wrong on his tongue. "Uh…" He could see the others strain to hear what he would say. One look at her guileless amethyst eyes was all it took. _Bloody hell_. "No, actually. I have not."

Fortunately, Ryselle had her back to the rest of the table while she spoke with Severus. She missed the looks of total shock on the faces of the others. There was only one thing he could do without spinning for her another long and sordid tale of his miserable past. "I would appreciate one of the pasties, Ryselle, thank you."

Her smile was brilliant like the sun. "My pleasure, Severus." She went into the kitchen to fix his plate for him. Snape did his best to ignore the dumbfounded expressions around the table.

"Is there a problem?" His cold eyes swept the room.

"Of course not, Severus. We were just…uh…"

"Happy."

"Yes, happy that you liked the food." It was obvious that was not what Molly was thinking, but Ryselle was returning, so there was no time to question her.

As she set the plate in front of him, Severus was startled at her soft whisper. "Thank you, Severus. I know this is not easy for you."

He wondered what she knew. Did someone tell her that he refused to eat there? No, was the immediate response. She would never have asked if she knew. Bugger. Obviously she had some form of insight. He had told her things, small things about how the Mauraders treated him. It was very basic information, barely touching on the particulars of his time at Hogwarts. Apparently, she had managed to read between the lines. Was he really that obvious? Was it truly such a big deal that he ate with them? He shook his head ruefully. He would never understand the polite inanities that characterized so-called "civilized society".

Fortunately, dinner was quick and ended without incident. A few flicks of Molly's wand cleared the table and the group prepared for the business of the evening.

"Good evening, my friends." Dumbledore stood up abruptly and paused for quiet. "I must welcome all of you to this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." He took a deep breath, appearing to hesitate before continuing. Snape could have sworn the headmaster seemed upset. Well, as upset as Dumbledore ever was. "It is unfortunate that I must begin our meeting with some terrible news." That got their undivided attention. "It appears Lucius Malfoy has secured his release from Azkaban."

"WHAT?" Severus leapt to his feet without thinking. "Albus, how is that possible? They caught him dead to rights at the Ministry of Magic! Are they daft?"

The elderly wizard had not even blinked at Snape's reaction. He probably expected it.

"Severus." Ryselle's soft voice cut through his anger. "Severus sit down, let him finish." She tugged lightly on his robes until he resumed his seat.

"I share your distress, Severus, but am unfortunately powerless to do anything about it. Lucius was freed yesterday at the behest of several members of the governorship. We all know what kind of influence he has with them. I am afraid they felt the testimony of a group of 'unruly' students was not sufficient to keep him there."

"What about your testimony, Albus? Surely they don't think you are lying?"

"No, Molly, it is not that. They feel I was not sufficiently aware of the full situation. It was implied that I allowed my prejudices to cloud my judgment. High Inquisitor Umbridge and the former Minister of Magic were very vocal about my dislike of Lucius. Unfortunately, that shifted the vote of the Wizengamot by one in favor of Mr. Malfoy."

Snape leapt to his feet again. "That's absurd! Headmaster, allow me to testify to them how dangerous that man is. If anyone knows about him it is I. He's a Death Eater! Surely they can figure that one out by a simple examination of his left arm."

"Severus, I know you are upset. We all are. But the truth of the matter is that your testimony would be suspect too, and Lucius would still be free. I suspect you would no longer be welcome in Voldemort's ranks after that, however."

The potions master sat down frustrated. "Bloody hell," he muttered. He felt a delicate hand slip into his.

"It will be all right, Severus. There is nothing you can do for now. He will face justice sooner or later." Ryselle gave him a comforting smile.

He frowned. "It's the later I'm worried about. Lucius Malfoy has far too much power in the Wizarding world to leave him free and allied to the Dark Lord."

"Severus." She tugged on his arm until his eyes met hers. "There is nothing you can do. For now. Let it go."

He took a deep breath and counted to ten, all the while gazing into her beautiful, violet eyes. He could drown in them if he was not careful. He looked away.

"Fortunately, Lucius' capture did manage to accomplish several things. First and foremost being Draco Malfoy's inheritance. He is now solely in control of his grandparents' assets, which will reduce Lucius' capabilities rather significantly. The boy has learned to value his independence, which I believe will become important in the future."

"Headmaster, Lucius will still control those assets through young Mr. Malfoy."

"That may be true, Severus, but the process will not be as easy as one might think. I know some people who have that much influence at least. He will find it challenging to make changes."

Snape glowered but remained silent.

Dumbledore continued. "I am sure you have all noticed the presence of someone new in our midst. I'd like to welcome Professor Ryselle Spellsinger, the new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, to the Order. Most of you have met her already, but for those who haven't, Ryselle if you please?"

Ryselle stood up, unknowingly causing a bit of a stir with her holding of the potions professor's hand. "Uh, thank you, Albus. I am pleased to meet all of you." She sat back down.

Severus tossed her a slight smirk and squeezed her hand. "Short and sweet. Perfect."

"Very well. There are several things happening at this point in time. Severus, if you would please update us?"

Ryselle listened intently while Snape gave his report. It was very detailed, but succinct. According to him, Voldemort had recently begun bringing in a large number of old tomes from various locations in the Wizarding world. He was being very secretive about it, trusting only Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange to enter the room where they were stored. He caught a glance of one of the books – Dark Artifacts of the Ages by Malus Blackthorne. Her ears perked up at that. Her grandfather had a copy of it in his library from years ago. She wondered what the evil wizard was looking for. She made a mental note to borrow it and see what she could find.

"I believe he is currently searching for some sort of Dark artifact to aid him in his battle against Potter. The vague hints from Lestrange imply he is very close to securing something that will guarantee success and, to quote her, 'deliver victory over the muggle-lovers to the Dark Lord.'" Snape frowned. "Other than that, Lestrange and Pettigrew have been sending small groups of Death Eaters out on raids without notice. I think the Dark Lord might suspect there is a spy."

Dumbledore nodded. "It was only a matter of time, Severus. Perhaps now would be a good time for you to leave his ranks. Your sacrifice is appreciated, but seems to be becoming less effective as Tom becomes more suspicious."

Snape shook his head. "As much as I want to leave, Albus, I do not believe that would be a good idea at this time. The Dark Lord will never allow me to live knowing I betrayed him, and it would be virtually impossible to get another spy in the Death Eaters should it become necessary. The more Death Eaters captured will increase the likelihood he will begin trusting me for greater things. Patience would be a virtue at this point."

"I see. You are correct as usual, Severus. I cannot emphasize enough how much the Order appreciates your sacrifice."

It did not seem to Ryselle there was a lot of appreciation for what he was doing. From what she had heard before the Potions master arrived, a number of the members seemed to believe he was only one short step from a truly loyal Death Eater. Harry especially had quite the negative opinion of him. She could not really blame him after seeing how he had a tendency to treat the young Gryffindor and his friends. Perhaps she should mention something to him.

The rest of the meeting consisted of a review of recent Death Eater attacks, and a brief discussion on possible strategies. Ryselle had a few suggestions based on what she learned from her grandfather. Now that the Ministry was being more cooperative – Arthur's position as the acting Minister of Magic had a great deal to do with it – they were getting more support from the Aurors. Dumbledore linked their mirrors into a call system used by the Ministry to inform Aurors of attacks. That would reduce the response time should a member need to summon them.

Ryselle received her mirror from Dumbledore at the close of the meeting, and used her wand to shrink it and clip it to her necklace. She thought the engraved phoenix on the back made for a lovely amulet.

Severus bid her goodnight, after thanking her for her supportive words, and Apparated back to Hogwarts as soon as the meeting ended. He did not seem comfortable in the house. She knew it was Sirius' house, and it was pretty obvious Snape did not like being there. It made sense considering how much the two hated each other.

Ryselle had always wondered about that. Sirius and his friends had attended school at Hogwarts, but he rarely spoke of his time here. Rather, he rarely spoke of anything other than James, Lily, or Remus at Hogwarts. The one time he mentioned Snape, was after the Slytherin had done something to hack him off. Apparently, Severus had a bit of a vendetta against James and Sirius, and had a tendency to take it out on Harry. Sirius was angrier than she had ever seen him over it, and it was not hard to see the hatred burning in his eyes. She wondered at the time what Severus had done to merit the former Gryffindor's animosity. Other than saying the man was a slimy git, he refused to say much else.

Severus, on the other hand, told her about a few of the things the Marauders did to him during their years at the school. Ryselle found it almost too hard to believe Sirius would have done such things, but she likewise had difficulty picturing the Potions professor as a Death Eater. Sirius was arrogant, she knew, and speculated he had been much worse before his time in Azkaban. It was that arrogance and strength of will that kept him alive for all those years, and only the thought of seeing Harry again gave him hope. Despite that, however, she could tell his spirit had been severely damaged, leaving him an angry, broken man.

His reunion with Harry changed that. Ryselle knew the reason Sirius died was that he refused to stand by and watch his friends fight the bad guys without him. She had a vision of the night he died, and in it he looked more alive than she had ever seen him. Thanks to her grandfather's teachings, she knew she could not interfere, and it tore her heart to pieces knowing she could have saved him. He would not have appreciated her intervention, however, and the future would have been made more uncertain. There were days that she cursed her mother's gift of Gypsy Sight.

She still cried herself to sleep far too often. The loneliness and grief were crushing at times. Sometimes it was too much for her to bear. It occurred to her the nights would pass more easily with companionship. She glanced quickly over at Severus Snape's seat. Color rose in her cheeks as she realized the directions of her thoughts. _Bloody hell. That is the last thing I need to be thinking_, she thought. The Potions master had made it quite apparent on many occasions that her company was only marginally tolerated. She considered him a friend, but he made it quite plain he was unwilling to become close to anyone. The other teachers mentioned that he had never been seen with a date or significant other of any sort in all the years he had been at the school. She was curious why, but would never presume to ask.

Deep in thought, Ryselle absently bid the others farewell and headed back to the school. She found herself needing the solitude of her rooms. Her emotions were a jumbled mess and she had no desire to try to maintain her cheerful mask this evening. Dumbledore, Lupin and now Harry were the only ones who knew she had known Sirius, so they understood her sorrow. The others had no need to see how much she still hurt even after several months. They would wonder, and Dumbledore felt it imprudent for anyone else to know of her association with Sirius.

She tried to spend some time reading one of the books her grandfather sent, but her mind refused to be quiescent. Memories of Sirius and the time they had spent together kept bubbling to the surface, and she refused to ruin the book by covering it in her tears. Realizing she would get no studying done tonight, she pulled on a Gypsy skirt over her chemise and headed out to the empty classroom near her office. It would be empty this time of night and she felt the need for some vigorous dance.

Down in the dungeons, Severus Snape was working diligently on his next demonstration for his Potions class. The sixth years were getting ready to begin studying healing potions, and he wanted to make sure everything was ready for them when school started back up on Monday. He also needed something to distract him from the disturbing thoughts he was having about the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

No one in the school could deny she was beautiful. Physically, she looked like one of Sirius Black's old girlfriends with her ebony hair and aubergine eyes. She often wore robes to match, which suited her coloring and made her eyes stand out even more. Her flawless, ivory skin contrasted with the dark colors of her hair and attire, but strangely did not make her look pasty-faced. There was just enough touch of pink in her cheeks to offset the paleness.

He frowned as he considered the detail of his image of her. The last thing he wanted to do was to get entangled romantically with a woman more than a decade his junior, who also happened to be his dueling partner and occasional assistant. Professionalism would suffer if he became enamoured of her. That simply was not appropriate. Especially now that she knew he was a Death Eater. If Lucius ever suspected he had any sort of interest in the young teacher, she would be in greater danger than she ever imagined. He resolutely pushed such speculations to the back of his mind and closed the door on those feelings. He studiously tried to ignore the memory of her small hand in his.

It occurred to him that his distracted state was not the best condition to suffer from while creating potions. Giving it up for a lost cause, Snape irritably locked up his ingredients and decided to call it a night. Perhaps he could use his time more efficiently by diverting his attention with a good book. He headed out to the Library. Ry…Professor Spellsinger offered a particular challenge the other day when she reflected his Blasting Curse and he thought he remembered reading about a spell that could not be redirected.

Snape stalked through the hallways, deep in thought, but attentive enough to catch any students out after curfew. It was his job after all to make sure the children were punished for their misbehaviour. He was walking past the DADA classrooms when he thought he heard a noise coming from one of them. It was usually empty. Ryselle kept it in reserve for particularly destructive demonstrations since it was very spacious. His eyes narrowed. There had better not be some students in there. He crept over to the door, frowning as he heard the sound of music from within. It certainly was not the professor practicing. Silently, he opened the door, intent on startling the students inside, but found himself startled instead.

Ryselle was whirling about the room, dancing to an exotic Gypsy melody produced by a group of animated instruments at the back of the classroom. Her skirts flowed around her like water, and a thin sheen of perspiration indicated that she had been active for a while. The dark cloud of her hair whipped about her face as she spun into an intricate move, joy radiating from her eyes because of her dance. He was thunderstruck. He read a short while ago about the Gypsies and the beauty of their dances. The description was not even close to doing justice to the magnificence of a Gypsy woman in the throes of such movement. She looked ecstatic, joyful, and free of all cares in the world. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Suddenly he realized he had no desire to read anymore.

The music abruptly ended and before he could close the door, she spotted him.

"Severus?" Her smile was welcoming. "What is it? Is something the matter?"

He realized he still looked dumbfounded and quickly changed his expression to something more neutral. "Uh, no, Ryselle. I was simply…passing by. I am afraid I thought there were students in here."

Her tinkling laugh echoed through the room. "I have the doors enchanted to ward off students. Do not worry about that. The last think I need is a student going through my books and classroom materials."

"Ah. Good. Well… uh… I believe I will be going. Good evening."

"Severus." Her voice stopped him as he turned to leave.

"Yes?"

"Wait a moment." With a few flicks of her wand, the instruments disappeared and she had magically refreshed herself. She headed over to where he stood and smiled up at him. "Perhaps you would like to join me for a snack?"

He felt oddly exhilarated about the idea and nodded without thinking. Before he knew it, they were ensconced in the teachers lounge with a tray of biscuits, some tea, and a small chocolate cake. He felt the urge to smile when her eyes lit up at the sight. Apparently, the house elves already knew about her chocolate addiction. They munched for a few minutes before she looked at him curiously.

"Okay, Severus, what is bothering you?"

He almost choked at the question. "Excuse me?"

"You do not seem to be yourself. What is the matter? Is it Lucius?"

His dark eyes narrowed at the name. "I am not pleased with the situation, no."

She nodded. "I understand. I do not see how the Ministry could just let that bloody bastard go with all that he has done."

"Politics, my dear. Fudge is a terribly political man and the Ministry adapted to accommodate that. The Malfoys have an incredible amount of power throughout the wizarding world, which means they have a lot of political influence. They are one of the oldest and wealthiest pure-blood families."

That got a snort. "Pure-blood. Surely they realize by now that they are about as pure-blood as the muggle royal family. Wizardry is simply a gift certain individuals have because of their evolution. Muggles have the potential to be wizards. They are simply not able to use magic because their gifts are not powerful enough."

Severus cringed at the thought. He was brought up to despise muggles and their offspring, and the idea that they possessed the same potential magical gifts as a wizard made his skin crawl. He sternly reminded himself that she grew up in a different environment and tried not to scowl at her words.

"Really?"

"Severus, two wizards are more likely to have another wizard as a child, like two redheads will typically produce another, but it is not always the case. The potential for wizardry is what my grandfather refers to as a recessive trait. That is why muggles can give birth to a wizard. Two of them with the potential are far more likely to produce a magical child than two parents without the potential for magic. But it can happen."

"That is the point. Being a pure-blood simply means you are descended from a long line of wizards. There is a certain amount of interrelation – my family has ties to the Malfoys, for example – but we do not have ties to muggles." The last word was nearly spat in disgust.

Ryselle was surprised. She should have expected it. He told her how he was raised. "Pure-bloods are not superiour because they have wizard parents, Severus. In fact, my grandfather believes that the intermarrying of wizards has been responsible for the loss of much of our magic. We used to be able to do so much more."

Again, he almost choked at her words. "What do you mean?"

"Take the Gypsies for example. You are aware that I have an unusual amount of magical gifts for a witch, correct?"

He nodded.

"That is not true where I come from. Most Gypsies have several abilities typically not seen here in Britain. The ability to speak with animals, to heal, manipulate the elements, and see into the future are the most common, and we do not typically need to use wands. Our gifts are generally weaker, however, as a result. It has nothing to do with heritage and everything to do with training.

"I am not descended from fifty generations of wizards or anything like that, Severus. In fact, my grandmother possessed only the gift of Sight and no other magic. My grandfather on my father's side was a muggle. Gypsies marry outside the so-called wizarding world far more often than anyone else. It is, perhaps, our nature to desire change. Because of the variety of our ancestors, many of us have an assortment of gifts not ordinarily seen in other wizards. Harry's mother was a muggle-born and her blood and that of his pure-blood father have gifted him rather significantly. Hermione is muggle-born and look at what she can do. It is also my understanding that Tom Riddle was a half-blood and he is extraordinarily powerful."

Snape frowned. "Surely you don't think being muggle-born is better than being a pure-blood?"

She shook her head. "Neither is superiour, Severus. Merely different. All I am saying is that this rivalry is petty and stupid. I honestly do not understand why Hogwarts and other places perpetuate it. The Americans do not have this problem."

"American magic is not the same as ours."

"Precisely for that reason. They do not have the problems with interbreeding that we do."

He was silent for a moment, thinking. He did not agree with her, but he was willing to concede she had a point. That more than anything disturbed him. Surely, he could not possibly be considering…

"We will have to agree to disagree on that, Ryselle."

"Fair enough. Now I did not mean to go off on a tangent, Severus. What is bothering you?"

How was he supposed to tell her that it was the sparkle of her eyes and the warmth of her smile that bothered him? That he was disturbed by the rush of pleasure he felt in her presence or the odd urges to glance at her whenever she was near. One of the highlights of his day was sitting next to her at meals and chatting with her as they ate. He sternly reminded himself to get a hold of himself.

"I am merely under a great deal of pressure, Ryselle. Lucius' release will make things a lot more difficult for me as far as the Death Eaters are concerned. I do not look forward to the holiday season."

She took his hand. "You know you can always spend it with me. I do not know what I will be doing, but your company would be welcome."

He was stunned. "Uh… thank you, Ryselle. I… uh… will probably be spending it at the Malfoys as usual."

"Ah. Okay." She yawned. "Oh dear, look at the time." Standing up, she flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thank you for the company, Severus. Goodnight." Before he could react, she kissed him gently on the cheek and was gone.

_Bloody hell._

Severus Snape suddenly realized he was well and truly in trouble. She was far too extraordinary to ignore.


	13. Something About You

I apologize for the long wait. My flash drive freaked out and deleted my entire story. Fortunately, I back up regularly. But I did have a major bit of work I had to rewrite. Here it is for your viewing pleasure.

I love the fact that you guys don't like Julian. I designed him to be an annoyingly perfect character – a foil for Draco Malfoy – and boy does it seem to be working.

Thank you again for reading and reviewing. I love hearing your feedback.

Hats off to Vaughn.

* * *

Harry quickly made his way through the halls, hoping he did not run into Professor Snape or Filch. He was on his way to his Occlumency lesson with Professor Spellsinger, but had no desire to deal with those two in the mood he was in. He was confused and a bit worried. Ginny's behaviour, as of late, had been extremely odd. She came to him tonight before he left, requesting the usage of his Invisibility Cloak for a few days. What she could want it for he had no idea, but the look in her eyes told him it was very important. He intended to ask her about it later, but for now, there was no reason not to lend her the cloak. Merlin knew she was far less likely to get into trouble with it than he was.

Hopefully, whatever it was worked out.

His instincts told him it had something to do with the situation between her, her secret admirer, and Julian. Part of him held out hope that she would get back together with the handsome Gryffindor. They seemed to be very happy together, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that their separation was affecting them both severely. However. Ginny's secret admirer was most certainly a major factor in things, and Harry got the feeling she was far more attached to him than any of them realized. He just hoped the boy was worthy of her. Ah well. If not, he and Ron would make sure they had a bit of a chat with him.

Professor Spellsinger's office was open when he arrived, but she was nowhere in sight. Having learned his lesson previously, Harry sat down near her desk and waited. As the time passed, he found himself thinking more and more of the woman he loved, Hermione. Sometimes, when he saw how much pain he was causing her, he wondered if it was worth it to separate himself from her. Then he would dream of Voldemort and the terrible things he and his mindless lackeys were doing. He realized he could never place her in that much danger. She was already in danger for being who and what she was – a brilliant, muggle-born student whose very existence disproved everything the dark wizard preached. On the other hand, however, she was not the focus of the Dark Lord's attention like Harry was. If his feelings for her became known, however, that would quickly change. Death Eaters would actively hunt her, putting her in danger, no doubt, from the very students at this school. House would not be a consideration, since he was fully well aware that not all Death Eaters came from Slytherin.

"Nor are they cut from the same cloth, Harry." Professor Spellsinger smiled as she entered the office.

Harry whirled, wand in hand, and then relaxed as his thoughts caught up to his actions. "Sorry, Professor."

She chuckled. "Do not be. Reflexes such as that may save your life one day, Harry." The raven-haired professor took her seat and gestured for him to sit. "How have you been?"

He sighed. That one question asked for so much more than the state of his wellbeing. "Er… things are alright, Professor. I… I've been doing a lot better controlling my temper. I've only used the Voice twice in the past three weeks, and one time was slightly purposeful."

A delicate eyebrow arched.

"Uh… Crabbe and Goyle were picking on a second-year and I was the only person around. I didn't want to get in trouble for hexing them, so I told them to stop and get back to class."

"Did it work?"

He nodded excitedly. "Yes, it did. They blinked stupidly and then walked off like they had no idea why they were there in the first place. It was incredible! I mean, it's nice to be able to actually help people, Professor." He gazed at her earnestly. "Sometimes I look at my abilities and wonder why I have them. Why is it me that has to defeat Voldemort? Do I only have this capability because of it? But then I remember what you said about not wishing my destiny on anyone else, and it hits me that I am probably going to need these abilities. That yes, I probably do have them so I can defeat him, but they probably won't go away, will they?"

Ryselle shook her head. "Such gifts are part of you, Harry. It is part of the privilege and part of the responsibility."

"But that means I can keep helping people long after Voldemort's dead. Assuming I survive," he muttered.

"Harry James Potter! Do not think such a thing! Death comes when it will and there is little you can do about it except strive to live as long as possible."

"Sirius didn't get to…"

"Yes he did, Harry. Sirius died doing exactly what he wanted. He was charging to your rescue. Do not think that because Sirius died it means that you have the right to give up on living past Voldemort's defeat." She clasped his hand. "He would kick you in the arse if he heard you speaking this way."

Harry could not help but chuckle. "True."

"Besides, Harry, do you wish to leave Hermione?"

Soft chocolate eyes appeared in his mind, filled with love and trust. He shook his head. "No, Professor. I could never do that to her if I had the choice."

"Then think positively, Harry. You will succeed and you will survive. Believing anything else will simply sabotage your efforts."

He nodded.

"Now, anything else?"

"Er…" he blushed. "I… uh… I think I've been… uh… seeing into other people's minds."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Er… yeah. I… uh… well… uh…" How the bloody hell was he supposed to have this conversation with his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? "I… uh…"

"Harry…" she began warningly.

"S..Sorry. Er… let's just say I've been seeing things that are… rather embarrassing… and I could probably tell you who is… er… with who in the entire school."

He was offended when Ryselle started laughing.

"What?"

"I am sorry, Harry. No! Do not leave. I apologize. It is just… the look… your face…" She smiled at him fondly. "You are so young, Harry, and this is a very difficult thing to deal with."

"What the hell is 'this'?"

Ryselle quickly got up and fetched a book from her rooms. Flipping to a specific page, she sat next to Harry and pointed to the chapter title. Telepathy.

"You mean Leglimancy?"

"In a manner of speaking. Leglimancy is a form of telepathy, Harry. What you are experiencing is telepathy in its purest form. Leglimancy can be learned by anyone with a strong enough mind, but is activated through a spell like the Patronus or Shielding Spell. Telepathy by itself is the means by which a person sees into another's mind using only the power of their will."

"Can it be blocked?"

"Occlumency is used to block any form of telepathy. At some point, it becomes a matter of will versus will if an Occlumens is mentally invaded."

Harry looked confused. "What is the difference?"

"The difference, Harry, is in the focus. Leglimancy requires the focus of a spell. Telepathy requires nothing but the mind. It is a far more difficult discipline to learn, requiring great control and strength of will."

"Can you teach me?"

"Honestly, Harry, Professor Snape would be far better at this than I. My talents are in other areas, but, fortunately, Occlumency is one of them. Telepathy is something I have never truly desired to master."

He looked at her curiously. "Why not?"

"I am far too empathic."

Suddenly Ryselle's isolation from her peers made so much more sense. "Er… how is telepathy different?"

"Telepathy is a much more powerful experience. Not only do you get thoughts, but emotions, intentions, and depth. Voldemort, from what I understand, is a very skilled telepath. Empathy allows me to sense emotions, but it can be overwhelming. I do not like the idea of reading people's minds."

"But you can, can't you? You never said you couldn't do Leglimancy. You just said it wasn't something you mastered."

Ryselle cursed silently. "True." She sighed. "Harry, just because I am capable does not mean I am good at it. I can use it, as much as I hate it, but I try not to." A fond smile lit her face. "I am like my grandfather in many ways. There are many things I can do. Many things we all can do. But I am master of only a few."

"I'd rather have you teach me than Snape."

"Professor Snape," she corrected absently. "We will discuss this later. There will be no telepathy until you have mastered Occlumency. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now let us begin."

The session that followed was, Harry felt, particularly brutal. Not only did Ryselle read his mind, but she manipulated his thoughts and emotions as well. By the time she was done, he felt as if Professor Snape had been rummaging around in his head. At least she was kind enough to give him a potion for the headache, and a compliment on his efforts.

"You are doing well, Harry. It is only a matter of time before you have mastered Occlumency."

Harry left, and headed directly back to Gryffindor Tower and his dorm room. All he wanted was a hug from Hermione and a much needed rest. All else could go hang until tomorrow.

Ryselle Spellsinger, meanwhile, headed to Albus Dumbledore's office for a conversation she had been meaning to have with him for some time. Tonight was the first night she had delved so deeply into Harry's mind, and what she found concerned her even as it gave her hope. The young man was powerful – far more than he realized. He also had a healthy dose of temper, which made her leery of training his more destructive abilities until his personal life was in order. Unfortunately, she doubted Voldemort would be willing to wait to confront the boy until he was in a good mood.

"Toffee tentacles." The gargoyle moved aside so she could hop on the upward moving staircase. It did no surprise her to see Albus Dumbledore waiting for her, but Minerva McGonagall's presence was unexpected. She lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Ah, Ryselle, my dear. We've been expecting you. Lemon drop?"

Eyes twinkling in amusement, she took the proffered treat. "Thank you, Albus."

"Have a seat, my dear, and tell us what brings you here on this fine evening."

She chuckled. "Oh, Albus, I am sure you have an idea of my purpose here. But," she said, raising her hand to halt his objection, "I will state it for Minerva's benefit. You are aware, of course, that I have been tutoring Harry Potter in Occlumency since the beginning of the term. He is making good progress, and I have confidence that he will have mastered closing his mind by the end of the school year."

Minerva looked surprised.

"His training is being made more difficult by three things. One, he is linked to Voldemort. There is no way to truly close that link, so he is constantly struggling to keep Voldemort from reading his mind. It drains him, Minerva, and makes him more vulnerable in our lessons. I am honestly impressed he as improved this quickly. I wonder at Professor Snape's report of his lack of progress."

"They have never gotten along well, Ryselle," responded McGonagall, "Harry does not trust him and Severus… has issues with Harry."

"I figured as much. Fortunately, we have no such difficulties." Ryselle leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "The second issue has to do with him personal life. He is having the emotional issues of a normal sixteen year old. Combine that with the threat of Voldemort over his head and over the wo… people he loves and you have a recipe for potential disaster. Especially with the third issue."

The elderly witch and wizard looked interested.

"He is a telepath. Even more than that, he is a natural. He has been seeing into the minds of his peers, as of late, and it is making him unbalanced. Someone needs to teach him how to control his telepathic abilities."

"Aren't you…" began Minerva.

Ryselle interrupted. "I am not naturally talented at telepathy, Minerva. My mind has been trained very differently, and there would be little I could do to contain such a powerful gift as Harry possesses." She looked at the headmaster. "I would suggest either you or my grandfather teach him what he needs to know."

Albus nodded. "It has come to this point, then?"

"Yes. It will not be long before he begins to influence others."

"Then I will make time for this."

"Albus! You don't…"

He raised a hand. "Yes, Minerva, I must. Harry is in need of mentoring that only I or another very powerful telepath may give. I appreciate what you are doing to help Harry, Ryselle. Do you think you can continue teaching him Occlumency?"

"Yes, Albus. That will not be a problem."

"Then I will need you, Minerva, to take some of my duties for the next two weeks. I believe Harry will be able to master this particular gift far more easily than Occlumency." His blue eyes settled on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "Will you be there to help him, Ryselle?"

"If you wish, Headmaster."

"I will contain his mind while you teach him control. I believe your empathic abilities will be very helpful in that instance."

Ryselle nodded in agreement. "I will do my best."

"Splendid! Bring Harry to my office tomorrow night and we will begin."

"I will."

Taking her leave of the headmaster and his deputy, Ryselle headed back to her office to finish grading the third year essays. It promised to be an entertaining experience. Yesterday's lesson was on the Boggart and she was curious as to what odd spin her students would put on the topic. Teaching was so amusing sometimes.

The next morning found Draco Malfoy sitting in his room contemplating the events of the past few weeks. He feared he had miscalculated Ginny's reaction to her breakup with the Gryffindor. It had been his hope that she would turn to her secret admirer for comfort, confiding to him that things could have been a lot better and that she needed to find someone more like him. He was prepared to come heroically to her rescue by proposing that they exchange some more personal letters and then dramatically reveal himself when he felt the time was right.

Reality, unfortunately, did not live up to his imagination.

Two weeks had passed and he still had yet to hear from her. Admittedly, his last letter was less than friendly, but really, she had to care for him enough to get over it. Right? Did he screw up? His mood grew darker as the time passed without a word. She hated him. He had not even revealed himself to her and she hated him. It was difficult for him to acknowledge the fact that contact with her had become far more important than the bet. She was now more than that. As much as he hated to admit it, he realized he was falling for her.

How could he not?

She was beautiful, intelligent (without being irritating like Granger), mischievous, strong-willed, cunning, brave, gifted, and most important of all, seemed to genuinely like him. He stopped hiding behind the romantic "secret admirer" identity some time ago in all but name, and still she continued to write him, to care for him, and from what he saw, to want him more than even the bloody Gryffindor prat who had been her boyfriend. He felt a stab of guilt at that. It was doubtful that the two would have stayed together for a long time, he thought, but he could tell they would have been happy and probably stayed friends even after they parted ways. Now, it was unlikely they would be anything other than housemates.

He was glad Aldread no longer hung around "his" woman, but he was saddened to see how upset Ginny was as a result. It was odd to feel such remorse over something so Slytherin. He leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. What could he do to rectify the situation? Not that he cared, but if SA managed to smooth things over with Ginny and Aldread, she would probably be very grateful and far more inclined to start writing him again. Yes. Now that she was no longer with that prat, he needed to concentrate on making her want him instead. It was time to go back on the offensive, only this time, he would be sure to make things better for her.

Excellent.

Granger mentioned not too long ago that Ginny was very loyal to her friends. The first thing he needed to do was get on her good side and place himself firmly in the position of "friend" before moving forward. He nodded to himself. Yes. She would be very grateful to him if he did something to help one of her friends out. If the Aldread boy was that friend, so much the better. He could win her trust and get her to stop moping all in one fell swoop. Now, how to manipulate things so he could "help" the Gryffindor studmuffin…

Draco absently grabbed his books and headed to his first class of the day – Herbology. He would have to think on this for a while.

Ginny was sitting with Potter, Granger, and her brother when he arrived at the greenhouse. Professor Sprout bustled around, twittering about snakeroot and its various uses. He mechanically copied down the list of types and their specific properties while examining Ginny. She was pale and drawn, with her hair pulled back into a severe tail, slouched posture, and an unhappy frown on her beautiful face. The twinge of guilt was stronger this time.

Bugger. What the hell was wrong with him? His plan worked exactly the way he wanted it to. Blaise cast the spell on her three times a day, once per meal, and he manipulated her interest in SA to drive her away from that Gryffindor prat. How could he feel guilty for succeeding where lesser men would have failed? Like the Weasel king. His pathetically transparent plans to keep Granger and Potter apart were about as successful as his pursuit of fame. He frowned. He had her exactly where he wanted her – sad and vulnerable – yet he could not bring himself to take the final step. Doing so ran the risk of making her even sadder.

Draco threw down his quill in frustration. How was he supposed to fix this without handing her to Aldread or breaking her heart?

"Mr. Malfoy?"

His head shot up. Oh crap. He forgot he was in class. "Yes, Professor?"

Several girls giggled. "Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Er… yes, Professor. Thank you."

"Is there a reason you are upset with your quill, Mr. Malfoy?"

More giggling. He sighed. "No, Professor, I was simply… frustrated because it keeps… er… leaking on my fingers." He held up ink-stained hands.

"I see, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps Miss Granger will agree to lend you one of her special pens. They do not leak at all, from what I understand."

His nose wrinkled in disgust. "No thank you, Professor. I would prefer not to… associate myself with such… devices."

"Very well Mr. Malfoy. If we can continue? Now, snakeroot is commonly found in forested areas…"

Draco felt the need to bang his head on his desk. That was the most pathetic excuse he had ever come up with in his life. He used dragonspine quills. They were under warranty for life. Guaranteed not to leak or dull and all that. He could not believe Sprout fell for it. Okay, maybe he did. She was a Hufflepuff after all. He turned his attention to the rest of the lesson, aware that far too much attention was still on him.

He sighed. This was turning out to be a lovely day.

After class, Draco watched as the Golden Trio went off to slave away in the Library while Ginny made her excuses and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. He fought the urge to follow her, comforting himself with the thought that soon he would be back in her good graces and able to be with her when he wished. Hopefully, she would be feeling better by dinner.

Ginny returned to the tower and made her way upstairs. Frustrated, she threw herself on her bed, dropping her books and schoolbag nearby. _This week is going swimmingly_, she thought. Julian was moping around like… well… like his heart had been broken, which she supposed it was, and she felt incredibly guilty every time she saw him. Which was nearly every bloody class. She was still angry at SA for his little stunt two weeks ago. After a long talk with Hermione, she came to the conclusion that he was jealous and had been trying to make her feel the same. On one hand, she was livid that the little bastard ruined her relationship with Julian, but on the other, she was thrilled he seemed to care so much. He aroused in her an excitement she never felt with Julian.

Bloody hell. There went that pang of guilt.

Julian really deserved better than to be the victim of her uncontrolled temper. Hermione mentioned the Tempero Charm to her and she had to admit it made a great deal of sense. She hated the fact that he suffered for her doubts, though. If only she had talked with him earlier. Her frustrations would probably have been a lot less and things could have gone better. Unfortunately, she kept quiet and someone took advantage of that. After all, she never would have lost it that badly if she had been in her right mind. Now who would want to break her and Julian up in such a way that he would hate her?

Blaise Zabini.

Yes. That bitch was panting after Julian like a dog in heat and Ginny would not put it past her to sabotage their relationship just so she could get a shot at him. Unfortunately for her, she seemed to have underestimated the noble Gryffindor. Julian was paying no more attention to Blaise than he had before the breakup. In fact, he was beginning to avoid going to meals or doing anything other than study in order to escape his starry-eyed admirers. Hermione was really the only person he talked to anymore.

Blast it! Why did she have to go and get so obsessive over her bloody "Secret Admirer"? Julian was wonderful. Sure, they had issues, but she had planned on talking with him about her doubts and her feelings of inadequacy before things got too bad. Now it looked like she had lost a friend in addition to a boyfriend. What was she supposed to do? SA had yet to write her, and she was damn well not going to write him until she got a letter informing her that he was no longer enamoured with his mystery girl. Again, it appeared Blaise Zabini was standing firmly in the way of her happiness. She could hex the bloody bint.

"Ginny?" Hermione stood in the doorway, gazing at her friend uncertainly.

She rolled over and made room on the bed for the older girl. "Yeah, Hermione? What is it?"

"I thought I might ask the same of you. Are you okay?"

Ginny laughed bitterly. "What do you think, 'Mione? I drove my boyfriend away with my temper over a guy I've never met and am not even sure is real. I hurt him more than Ron hurt you, and I can't help but think all this is some sort of game to someone out there. I feel like I'm being played with, but I don't know who's doing it!"

"Maybe… I don't know, Ginny. I can see your point."

"It's got to be Blaise, 'Mione. She's the only common thread in all of this beside me and Julian."

"And SA. Don't forget him. He's the reason all this started in the first place."

The ginger-haired girl snorted. "Don't remind me. He's the reason I broke up with Julian."

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then she turned to gaze curiously at her friend. "Why?"

_Such a simple question for such a complicated situation_, Ginny thought. Hermione had a good point, though. She needed to figure that out. The younger girl was silent for a moment. "I guess part of it is that I always felt so… inadequate, you know? Undeserving. Like I was reaching far above my head to touch something too good for me."

"Ginny…"

"Julian's amazing. He's like Harry only without the insane madman chasing after him and all the angst that goes with it. I guess I've always liked the idea of being with a hero. My Prince Charming, I guess." She smiled, remembering the time they were together. "We could talk about anything. He loves Quidditch, but is also interested in Charms and Potions like me. He thinks Divination is interesting, but that Madame Trelawney is funny. He likes Transfiguration, but prefers Professor Spellsinger's teaching style over Professor McGonagall's. I… he's an amazing kisser and an incredible gentleman. He refused to go any further than I was willing to let him." She giggled. "It was rather cute, actually. He's so shy and uncertain in private, but projects such confidence to everyone else."

"I thought his shyness was something you hated."

"I… no, I didn't hate it. I just hated the fact that he didn't share his uncertainty with me. I was perfectly willing to help him get over it. If only he'd trusted me."

Hermione sighed. "It wasn't trust, Ginny. It has to do with how he was raised." She briefly told her friend about the conversation between her and Julian, and how he had not wanted to trouble her with his insecurities.

Ginny was silent for a while, thinking about what Hermione told her. "Ugh! Why couldn't he just tell me that he… wasn't experienced? I don't care about that, you know. I just wanted someone to be with me… accept me… I…" She threw herself into her friend's arms and began to weep. "Oh Hermione! I totally buggered things up. He hates me," she wailed.

Her reaction, though startling, was not completely unexpected. Hermione held her friend and rocked her gently as she wept. It was only when she began to hiccup that she pushed her away and met her eyes.

"Shhhh. It will be okay, Ginny. We can talk to Julian. You can write SA. We'll fix this."

Ginny's eyes were wide like a child's. "Promise," she sniffed.

"We'll do our best. I promise." Knowing her friend was in no shape to join them for dinner, Hermione helped her get ready for bed and promised to have the house elves bring her something to eat. Professor McGonagall would understand.

"Thanks, Hermione," whispered Ginny, as her friend left the room.

"Goodnight, Ginny. Sleep well."

Harry and Ron were waiting for her when she went downstairs. Both of them looked worried, but it was Ron who spoke first.

"How is she?"

Hermione sighed. "Upset. She thinks Julian hates her."

"Why would she care what that prat thinks of her?"

"Ron…" Hermione began warningly.

"I don't think Julian was responsible for their breakup, Ron," said Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"Ron," said Hermione, "Julian and your sister broke up because she… well… she kind-of freaked out on him."

"Well, he obviously must have deserved it. The bloody git."

Hermione shook her head. "Not completely. She… misunderstood something he was doing and he was simply trying to be a gentleman."

Ron's face reddened. "I'll kill him."

Harry grabbed Ron as he prepared to storm out of the tower to go looking for Julian. "No! Ron, wait!" Hermione stepped in front of the portrait hole. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, Hermione?" She hated it when he used his calm yet angry voice. It usually meant he was about to do something extraordinarily impulsive, violent, and/or stupid.

"She… er… uh…"

"Oh just spill it already!"

"Fine! She wasn't happy with how hesitant he was about things, all right? She wanted him show himself to be less than perfect, and to confess to her how shy and uncertain he was."

"What?" Ron looked confused. "You mean he didn't… er… do anything to her?"

She let loose a sigh of frustration. "No, Ronald! He was a perfect gentleman and did everything he could to treat her like a princess."

"Then what was the problem?"

"Me." They whirled to see Ginny walking slowly down the stairs. "I was the problem, Ron. I had everything any sane girl could want and I pushed it away because I felt unworthy. And I…"

"You wanted your secret admirer instead."

Ginny gaped at her brother.

"Oh bloody hell, Ginny. I may be a bit dense, but I'm not stupid. You've been over the moon for that blighter since you first started receiving his letters. At first, I figured it was Julian, but it just didn't sound right when I talked with him. He had no clue. You wanted to be with this other guy but settled for Julian."

They were all shocked at his perception.

"What, you didn't think I knew? You guys really need to hone up your observational skills." He gently moved Hermione away from the portrait hole. "I don't know about you all, but I'm starving. I'll see you in the Great Hall." Ron sauntered out of the tower, leaving behind three very astounded Gryffindors.

"Well I'll be damned," said Ginny.

"No kidding." Hermione looked at her friends. "We've really underestimated him, haven't we?"

Harry nodded. "We do that a lot. I guess that's why he's constantly beating me at chess."

Ginny shrugged. "I'm glad he's good at something. He's right, though, I'm starving."

"But I thought…"

"I'm not going to stick around here and mope forever, Hermione. I needed that cry. Thanks for being there. But now I need to be around people. And food. Definitely around food."

Harry and Hermione grinned as the red-haired girl darted out of the tower. "Yup, she's a Weasley."

The two cheerfully followed their friends, walking slowly to enjoy each other's presence. Harry quickly kissed Hermione's hand before they headed inside.

"I love you," he whispered.

Draco's eyes shifted to the minor commotion at the Gryffindor table. It appeared Weasley and his sister finally arrived for dinner. The Weasel king quickly pounced on the food, piling his plate high before stuffing his face like the pig he resembled. Ginny, on the other hand, took generous portions, but ate with acceptable table manners. Hmmm. He would need to teach her better than that if she was going to be with him. Potter and Granger were late, but quickly took their seats and began eating before anyone said something. By the blush on Granger's face, he figured Potter had made some sort of Gryffindorish attempt at romance.

Pathetic.

It was sad how the boy mooned after the girl, somehow thinking that people were unaware of his feelings for the Mudblood. He cursed. The muggle-born. He doubted Ginny would appreciate him referring to her best friend by a term that cost him a bloody nose his third year. He rolled his eyes. Why did everything have to be so bloody complicated? In a perfect world, he would be able to walk up to Ginny, offer her a reasonable number of Galleons to accompany him to the Ball, and then part ways afterward without any gratuitous displays of romance or emotional commitment. Of course, if it were a perfect world, Acheron would be back in Greece and he would be free to do whatever he wanted. His eyes slid to the arrogant Slytherin. He sat at the other end of the table, surrounded by his sycophants, basking in their meaningless adoration.

It was disgusting.

"Draco," said Thanos, turning his dark eyes to the silver-haired Prefect.

"Yes, Acheron?"

"So what happened with your quill in Herbology today? I thought you had one of the dragonspine quills. Or did you get a cheap knockoff?"

Draco glared. "I don't get 'cheap knockoffs,' Acheron. I leave that to you," he replied eying Pansy. She gasped as she realized what he was implying

"Draco Malfoy! How dare you say such a thing?" she demanded shrilly. It made him wonder how he ever put up with her. Her voice sounded like a dying pig caught in an ironworks.

"I didn't say anything, Pansy darling. I was merely commending on your boyfriend's… taste… when it came to… quills."

Several students snickered at that. Any Slytherin worth their house knew exactly what he was implying. Pansy stood up.

"You take that back, Draco!"

His cold, grey eyes rested on her, bored with the whole scene. "Oh, my mistake, Pansy," he said sarcastically, "your boyfriend seems to prefer hand-me-downs instead."

She gasped.

Thanos stood up and reached for his wand, ready to defend his girlfriend.

"Is there a problem, here?" The silky voice came from behind Thanos Acheron. He turned to face his professor.

"Uh… no sir. I was just…"

"We were chatting about wands, sir. Thanos was simply going to show me how much longer his happens to be."

"I believe, Mr. Malfoy, that the size of the wand has very little to do with its functionality."

Draco smirked. "That was my thought, Professor. But I thought it prudent to consider all the facts."

Snape eyed them sternly. "There will be no wand size comparisons taking place here or anywhere else, is that understood?"

The two Slytherins ignored the snickers around them. "Yes, sir."

Black robes billowing dramatically, Snape returned to the Head Table and sat down. A feminine chuckle caught his attention and he glanced over at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. One look at her made him want to bang his head against a wall or hide in mortification.

"Wand length, Severus? My goodness. I was unaware you were so well-versed on the particulars of wand functionality." Her eyes sparkled mischievously even as her smile touched his heart.

He fought the urge to flush. "It is something any proper wizard is aware of, Ryselle. Misters Malfoy and Acheron are young, however, and needed to be reminded that the Great Hall is not the place for such a discussion."

She arched her eyebrow. "It is something better done in private, eh Severus?"

"Ryselle," he said, exasperated, "please cease the innuendo. It is difficult enough to deal with… that… as it is."

"Two young bucks wrestling for dominance?"

"Essentially."

She touched his hand. "I am sorry, Severus. I do not mean to make things more uncomfortable for you."

He ignored the rush of warmth at her touch. "It is… I was brought up to be a gentleman, Ryselle. One does not discuss such things with a woman."

"Forgive me," she murmured.

He found himself trapped by her gaze. "Always," he whispered. "I…"

"Gypsies have a very different view of the world, Severus, and certain parts of human behaviour. We do not find discussions such as this to be… ungentlemanly."

"There is a certain coarse vulgarity in innuendo, Ryselle. A lady of your caliber should not be exposed to such… filth."

She blushed. "Thank you, Severus. I… I am honored by your noble behaviour.

"No true wizard would be anything but noble in your presence, my dear."

She smiled at him, gently squeezing his hand.

"I apologize. I promise I will be more considerate of your feelings. I will respect your upbringing." She smiled shyly. "It is rather refreshing to meet a man who has such a proper aristocratic bearing."

"For you I could do nothing less."

Ryselle wondered if she would ever stop blushing. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Neither professor was aware of the spectacle they were presenting at the Head Table. Minerva McGonagall and Eurydice Vector were shocked at the way their Slytherin colleague was acting towards the youthful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He had been at the school for nearly twenty years, and in all that time, none of the teachers could remember him behaving with anything less than derision. Headmaster Dumbledore's gleefully twinkling eyes nearly lit up the room as he observed the increasing closeness between the man he thought of as a son and his oldest friend's granddaughter. Hope swelled in his heart that the Potions master would finally allow himself to be open to the caring of another.

The intensity between Ryselle and Severus lessened, but was still present as they changed topics and began to converse about the properties of the Wolfsbane Potion and how it might be changed for greater duration. The Potions master had an encyclopedic knowledge of the ingredients and their properties, as well as the experience to know how they interacted. Ryselle marveled at his brilliance, hoping she was up to the standard of having this conversation with him. It was refreshing to feel so challenged.

Severus was thrilled to be talking with a person, a woman, who understood the majority of what he was saying and even had the occasional insight to the topic. Potions was not Ryselle's forte, but she was extraordinarily intelligent and knowledgeable about forms of magic he possessed only passing familiarity with. Like ritual magic. The Dark Lord was the only other person he knew with such a deep understanding of the rare magical art. Hmmm. It occurred to him that the answer might be sitting right in front of him. Perhaps a combination of a ritual and potion might succeed where mere charms and potions failed.

He mentioned his thought.

"It is possible, I suppose," she mused, still absently holding his hand. "Rituals typically combine facets of all forms of magic, and are especially good at manipulating life energy. Most major healing spells are a form of ritual magic."

"Do you think a ritual could be created to suppress lycanthropy, or even cure it?"

"I do not know, Severus. According to legend, there are rituals to accomplish everything from winning a person's heart to bringing one back from the dead. Anything is possible."

"Perhaps that would be the best angle to work from. Assuming you are interested in working on such a thing with me," he said hesitantly.

Her smile lifted his heart. "Of course I would be interested. Remus could benefit so much from such a spell!"

He frowned, puzzled at her apparent familiarity with the werewolf. He removed his hand. "How well do you know Remus?" He thought they had just met for the first time at the Order meeting.

"Uh… I… not very well. I just… want to help anyone with such a condition, Severus. He is, after all, one of us."

She was lying. He could tell. She was not being remotely honest with him. Suddenly, all his benevolent feelings vanished. He would not be played for a fool. He stood up. "Yes, he is. Very well, I shall expect you to be in the laboratory at ten o'clock." His voice turned cold. "Do not be late."

Ryselle watched with wide eyes as Severus swept out of the room.

_What the bloody hell just happened?_

Dinner ended without further incident, and the students returned to their dormitories. Ginny made her excuses and headed up to her room, deep in thought. Julian was beginning to come out of his funk, but he still refused to even look at her. She felt slightly irritated, but then she remembered what she said to him, and how Hermione told her she was his first girlfriend, and she felt terrible all over again. What was she going to do? It was all fine and dandy for Hermione to say they were going to make things better, but another thing to actually accomplish it. First she would have to get Julian to associate with her. She was not sure even Hermione would be able to do that.

The soft hoot of an owl greeted her as she entered the room.

Ginny halted in the doorway, shocked at the sight of Icarus on her bed holding a scroll with SA's distinctive seal. Hands shaking, she carefully removed it from his leg and produced an owl treat. Part if her was afraid to open the parchment, but she needed to know what he had to say for himself.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me for being a royal prat. I'm afraid I have not been entirely honest with you in my past letters. Please, don't stop reading until you reach the end of this letter. I was jealous, Ginny. Julian seemed to be everything I never could be and I was afraid you would not give me a second thought once the two of you were together. In a way I was right. The tone of your letters changed – you were obviously quite smitten with him – and I wished it were me instead._

_I know we do not know each other outside of these letters, but please believe me that everything I have written was true and I have gone out of my way to be honest with you. There is a lot we don't know about each other, and all I wanted was to continue down the path we had taken when we began our correspondence. I truly care for you, Ginny, and I want you to be happy, but I am too selfish to want it to be with anyone but me._

_Forgive me for hurting you. I was a jealous berk and should never have implicated that Blaise and I had any sort of relationship outside a distant association from being housemates. Yes, Ginny, you are correct. I am from Slytherin House. I faked an interest in Blaise so I could make you jealous in hopes that you would turn back to me. I never expected things to go so badly. I find myself curious as to what happened. I honestly thought I had driven you away with my transparent scheme for your attention. Why were you so angry? Did he do something to you because you seemed to have another interest?_

_I only meant to get your attention, not to completely destroy your friendship with Julian. Forgive me for my part in what happened. They say that 'The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.' If there is one thing I have learned from this, it is to talk with you about my fears and insecurities. I should have told you I was jealous. I should have asked you to give me a chance to be for you what he has been._

_I'm sorry._

_I hope you will be able to forgive me someday, Ginny. I took something wonderful and destroyed it out of jealousy, and then cast aside the reason I did it in the first place. All I can say is that I was afraid of losing you to someone far more worthy of your affections. Don't let my mistake end your friendship with Julian. I'm sure he will listen to you if you take the chance._

_Should you wish to continue corresponding with me, Ginny, I welcome it, and I promise I won't do anything like that again._

_Love,_

_SA_

Ginny found herself seated on her bed. Who would have thought? SA confessed to her that he was jealous, and even apologized for being a prat about it. Maybe he was not the bastard she thought him. She was curious, however, as to what happened with the Tempero Charm. If Hermione was right and she was under the charm, it sounded like it had to be someone else since SA seemed to have no idea why she was so upset. Was Blaise simply taking advantage of the situation? She would not put it past her. The girl was a menace.

She needed to talk with Hermione.

The trip to the Library gave Ginny time to think about the situation and come to a series of decisions. She still had a lot of unanswered questions about what happened, and really needed the older girl's advice on how to handle it. Was she simply being a fool by even considering giving SA another chance?

It was not terribly hard to separate Hermione from her two shadows. Harry and Ron actually seemed relieved to be let off the hook for their current study assignments. Before they left, Hermione reminded them that they had tests in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts on Friday, and they both needed to study for the written part of the exams. The boys were still assuring her they would continue studying in her absence as Ginny dragged her away.

"Be back before curfew!" called Harry.

Ginny stuck out her tongue as the door swung shut.

"Bloody wanker," Ginny muttered.

"They're not going to complete their studies," Hermione complained worriedly. "They both need to do really well this year if they want to get into the Auror program. I can't believe they're still being so irresponsible."

Ginny listened politely, knowing that her friend was grousing more than anything. Harry, at the very least, was doing a lot better this year. Not that he would be turned away from anything he decided to do. Ignoring her friend's muttering, she pulled Hermione out to her favorite tree by the lake and made her sit down.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Honestly, Ginny, what's gotten into you? You're being…"

"Pushy?"

"Yes! What's going on?"

Ginny mutely handed her the letter.

With a curious look, Hermione opened the letter and quickly perused the contents. Her face remained impassive, to Ginny's irritation, so there was no real clue about what she thought about it. Ginny was not terribly concerned, however. She knew her friend would give her a very honest opinion.

"Rubbish."

"What?" Ginny regarded the older Gryffindor in surprise.

"I said 'rubbish.'" She gestured at the parchment. "It's too simple. He says he's in Slytherin, but the scheme he came up with was very straightforward. He told you he found someone else in order to make you jealous, and then used Blaise to turn your attention back to him? That sounds like something we might come up with. There's always something more with a Slytherin. He's not telling the truth."

"He said…"

"Okay, he's not telling the whole truth. This entire letter is a carefully constructed set of facts, slanted a particular way to make it sound the way it needs to for whatever result he wants."

"Which is?"

"You. What else. He wants you to choose him, sight unseen, and was willing to push you to jealousy to make it happen."

"What about the Tempero Charm? He said he didn't cast it."

"No, Ginny, he didn't. Come on. You should know this. You of all people should be able to see the Slytherin logic in this letter."

Ginny's face darkened in anger. "So you think he did it?"

Hermione sighed. "At the very least he took advantage of it." She thought for a moment. "But I doubt it was him."

"Why?"

"There's a risk associated with casting the Tempero Charm. Sometimes the charm backfires, causing a magical backlash to affect the two people involved – victim and caster. If he was the one using the charm, he would have run the risk that you would come to hate him. No Slytherin would be willing to take that risk."

"Do you think he arranged it?"

"It's possible." Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I don't know, Ginny. You know this guy better than I do. Do you think he might have done something like this?"

Ginny reluctantly nodded.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

That was the question. Ginny was ashamed to admit she was flattered by the idea that someone liked her enough to fight for her – even if it was in a very underhanded, Slytherin way. She did get the feeling that he was not truly lying to her. His letters, for the most part, felt honest and she trusted her instincts. It was only the tiny voice in the back of her mind that was uncertain, but was willing to find out more. And that was the issue.

Despite all the time they had spent exchanging letters, there was still so little she knew about him. She could not help but be disappointed that he left so much of himself out of them. She felt as if she were getting to know an image as opposed to a person. She got the feeling he wanted her to see only certain things, and found herself curious as to why. How could he be so afraid of being honest with her? It was starting to bother her more and more. Especially considering that she broke up with Julian for not being open with her.

Ginny sighed. Every letter they wrote was like an intricate combination of dancing around the truth and sharing as much of themselves as possible without revealing anything to significant. In all honesty, she was sick of it. She broke up with her boyfriend for this bloke and he had the nerve to want her to keep "seeing" him through owlmail. She frowned. The mind behind the letters intrigued her, and she wanted to meet the man behind the words.

She wanted something real, not fantasy. She wanted to be able to look around the Great Hall and see him during meals. She wanted to go with him to Hogsmeade on the weekends and to the upcoming Yule Ball. She wanted to dress up for him in hopes of seeing his eyes bug out when he saw her beauty, or be able to appreciate him for whatever he looked like. Unless it was Crabbe or Goyle, which she highly doubted, it was a good bet he was probably handsome. One thing he had to give pure-blood families was that they were a pretty bunch. Take Malfoy, for example. He was a prat, but he was a good-looking prat.

Ginny thought about it for a while, then decided the time for pretense had come to an end. Either he was going to introduce himself, or she was going to move on and stop writing him. Her attraction for Julian had not faded, and she got the feeling that once she talked to him, he might be willing to give things another go. The idea was very attractive, but she could not go back to him until she found out how she truly felt about SA. If he was the man she talked to with the letters, then Julian was going to have to find another date to the Yule Ball. Julian was nice, but SA suited her in a way the Gryffindor never would. She looked at Hermione.

"I know what I need to do."

Hermione studied her for a moment, and the nodded, apparently finding whatever it is she was looking for. "Good luck, Gin."

"Thanks, 'Mione!" Ginny ran back to her room. Excited that she was finally going to do something about resolving the impasse between her, Julian, and SA, she threw herself on the bed after grabbing her keepsake box and writing set. She stuffed the letter in her keepsake box with the others, and the pulled out a scented piece of parchment to write the first of her letters for the evening. She really hoped this worked.

Ginny was fortunate that Harry Potter was such a good and trusting friend. For several days now, she had been plotting on how to find out who SA was, and it occurred to her that she simply needed to follow Icarus when he delivered her letter. Until she talked with Hermione, she had been planning on doing it. She changed her mind, however, when she thought about how Slytherin the man seemed to be. It had to be his house. There was no way he was anything but. Unless SA was Crabbe or Goyle, it was highly likely that he was protected from plans such as hers. Being confounded by an owl was not on her list of "Things to Do Before the Holiday."

Instead, she was going to write him a very special letter.

The next few days passed uneventfully, except for the frantic scribbling of a certain, youthful Gryffindor. She wrote and rewrote her letter, finally deciding to send it after the eighth revision. It was better than letting Hermione do it. After sending Icarus off with her latest letter, Ginny rushed downstairs to grab breakfast and find some way to distract herself.

If things went well, tonight would be an eventful evening.

Christmas was just around the corner and Draco Malfoy was dreading every moment of it. He was considering asking for permission to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday, but that would be tantamount to admitting his father scared him. He refused to be intimidated by an intellectual defective who was incapable of seeing how he was being used by the Dark Lord. Lucius honestly thought he would be sitting at the right hand of the greatest power in the wizarding world. Too bad he never read any of those books he forced his son to. He might learn something.

After a great deal of thought, he became confident he could manipulate his father into waiting to give him the Mark. They would never let him continue school at Hogwarts if he were a Death Eater. He should have thought of it sooner. He was only in his sixth year. Even his father was not so foolish as to prevent him from graduating. Voldemort needed more than just dumb muscle to rule the wizarding World.

Maybe he would check into the option of staying. It was always best to have a backup plan. Perhaps Ginny would be staying…

Mentally slapping himself for being a git, he sat back in his chair. His mind had been so frazzled lately, and he could all trace it back to Ginny Weasley. Ginevra. She disturbed him in a most pleasant fashion. Their letters were the highlight of his day, and he considered himself fortunate that he managed to secure her attention. Merlin knew she was stunningly beautiful. He certainly was not the first boy in the school to notice. He prayed she would end his suffering and respond to his letter.

Icarus fluttered against the window demanding Draco let him in before he froze. A chilly gust followed the owl as he flew into the room causing his master to slam the window shut. It was bloody cold outside. The Slytherin cast a warming charm on the owl's feathers and fed him a treat before removing the scroll from his leg.

The familiar scent of Ginny's floral perfume embraced him, and for a moment he indulged himself in the fantasy that she was really there. A mental slap brought him back to reality. He had been getting entirely too prone to dream about what it would like to be with her in truth. It was only a bet, he told himself, but even he was having difficulty believing that. He was in trouble with a capital "G."

Draco kicked back on his luxurious bed and opened the letter. He wondered what she had to say this time. There were few things he looked forward to anymore, but a letter from her was one of them.

_SA,_

_I can't say I'm very happy with you right now. Julian and I were getting along quite well, and you took it upon yourself to manipulate the situation for your own benefit. That is, however, a very Slytherin thing to do so I feel I must give you some leeway for your inner nature. That is not to say that I approve of your actions. Just that I understand them._

_I'm sure you understand that your last letter left me with my curiosity raging all the more. I find myself wanting to meet the man behind such strong emotions. Which is the purpose for this letter._

Uh oh, Draco thought.

_The time has come for me to say something I should have said a long time ago._

_I understand your desire for anonymity. We are all afraid of rejection and not being accepted for who we are. And if you are who I think you are _(Who does she think I am?)_, then your have multiple fears of rejection from me and those in your House. But at some point we have to take our courage in hand and do what we want anyway. I'm not saying I want you to stroll through the school grounds with me on your arm, but I would like to finally meet the man behind the words. There is only so well we can get to know each other with our current writing habits and I am no longer satisfied with a secret admirer._

_I want to know more about you. More than just the evasive hints you slip into your letters. I may not be wealthy, but every once in a while it would be nice to be able to send you a gift in return. I can't do that if I know virtually nothing about you. From your letters, I can tell you are an extraordinary person and it is that extraordinary person that has made me stop to look closer, despite my association with Julian. I can look past the opposition of our Houses for a chance to feel in person what I feel from your letters._

_There is a secret room, one of the old music rooms, which can be found on the third floor under the revolving staircase. It is near a picture of Nana Grizwald, and can be opened by telling her you are there for lessons in music. Meet me there at 8 pm tonight. If you are not there, I'm going to assume that you never want to meet, and will cease writing you. This is not because I'm angry with you, but I have a life to lead outside of my bedroom. I'd like for you to be a part of it, but I need to know who you are. Dreams are wonderful, but reality is better._

_I look forward to seeing you._

_Ginny_

Draco sat back in his bed, stunned. He had not expected this. It seemed as if he had her stringing along so well and his plan was working beyond expectations. He had intended to ask her to the Spring Ball with him and arrange to meet her then. That way he would win the bet, since she would not go back on her word, and then they could part ways. His heart gave a tiny lurch at the thought. But now things have changed. It appears he did his job too well. He interested her so much that she insisted on meeting him. _Bollocks_, he thought. _This is going to be an unmitigated disaster_. He had not had time to soften the blow; gently point her to the fact that no only was he was a Slytherin, but he was her friends' hated nemesis. He had been unable to do anything to prepare her. And now he had to meet her tonight. He idly wondered if he could quickly procure a Polyjuice potion and use one of the younger Slytherins as a replacement. _But that won't get me my date for the ball_, he thought. Blast it. He was cornered. The time had come for him to reveal himself. Tonight promised to be interesting. _I just hope she doesn't bring Potter_, he thought.

Eight o'clock came quickly, and before she knew it, the time had come for Ginny to meet her secret admirer. She had a frightful moment when she ran into Harry on her way out of the portrait hole, but he seemed to understand when she evasively told him she needed to take care of something. It was nice that he trusted her enough to let her go without questions. He had not been terribly surprised to see her. It made sense, since he knew about her usage of the cloak. Harry surprised her when he simply wished her luck and promised to keep her brother distracted. Hermione must have told Harry about the situation with her secret admirer. Ginny knew Harry was perceptive enough to figure out what was going on. His final look to her told her he would expect a full story later, however.

She quickly made her way to the music room without being seen and settled down to wait. Thirty minutes later she was still waiting, and wondered if SA was ever going to show. It was almost half past eight, and still no sign of him. She sat down at the piano and diddled with the keys. It was a good thing Harry had not insisted on coming with her. He would probably be getting ready to hunt the man down. She loved him like a brother, and knew he was very protective of her. Not as bad as her brothers, but if this bloke was who she thought he was, Harry was the last person that needed to be here. Besides, she wanted to meet him on her own.

A small sound caught her attention. As she watched, the door opened long enough for someone to slip in, then closed. An Invisibility Cloak, she guessed. She saw motion come from near the door, and a person appeared in the shadows. He hesitated for a moment, and then stepped out into the light.

* * *

Schnuff – yes, it is a bit soaplike, isn't it? It's supposed to be that way for now. I hope you are at least slightly enjoying it.

Nurray – thank you for your constructive criticism. I'll definitely bear it in mind for future use. Don't worry, you'll see more of Harry and his uncontrolled powers. I've just been focusing on getting the other stuff resolved first, and it's hard to work it in at times.


	14. Close Encounters

I am so, so, so sorry for the wait. Life's a pain in the arse, though, but I'm trying to update at least once a month. Someday I may succeed. Thanks for reading, guys, and for your reviews. They're keeping me warm during this bloody winter. (It's not supposed to be cold here!)

This one's a bit long, but hopefully worth it. I'll try not to leave you with any more cliff-hangers unless I know I will be able to update sooner. Please enjoy.

* * *

Ginny's eyes widened at the glint of silvery hair. 

"Malfoy!"

"Ginny."

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Well, you did say you wanted to meet here."

Ginny was speechless with shock.

"Look, I know what you're thinking. You want to know what I'm up to. You're wondering if there are Death Eaters in the closet. You think I'm planning to use you to get to Potter, right?"

She nodded, still unable to speak.

"I'm not here for any of those things, Ginny. I'm here because I couldn't stand the idea of not being able to talk to you again."

"Again? What do you mean, Ferret? We've never talked outside of you making fun of me and my family!"

He smiled, holding out her letter. "We've been talking for over two months, Ginny."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. She shook her head in disbelief. "No. No! That's not possible. The person who wrote those letters is not an insufferable git! He's kind and understanding. He has a sense of humor and doesn't live to make others feel bad…"

"Ginny…"

"NO! No, I don't believe it! You've done something to him. You ambushed him!" She whipped out her wand. "You're here to torment me like you always do!"

"'Your hair shines like the clouds in the morning sun, illuminating your alabaster skin with the light of heaven. Your eyes are like bronze, shining with the inner light of your extraordinary self. You are the most stunning woman I have ever seen. Your mere presence lights my existence like nothing else in the world.'" Draco quoted the letter, his voice conveying all the emotion she had imagined. "You like the color green, but not the light shade that your brother keeps giving you. You like Potter, but thought he was a bit arrogant for a while. You now think of him as a brother. Granger is your best friend and like an older sister to you. You think your brother is overbearing and overprotective. You used to date guys outside of Hogwarts so he wouldn't find out you were dating…"

"Stop it!"

"Ginny, I know it's hard to believe. Especially in light of how I act towards you outside our letters. But you must understand that I cannot reveal how I feel about you in front of the others. They would reject me and try to harm you. As long as my father thinks I'm all for Voldemort, he leaves me alone. But he won't if he finds I like a Weasley." He moved closer and sat next to her. "I really do like you, Ginny. I wasn't lying in my letters." He smirked. "Well, except maybe when I wished Gryffindor luck."

She felt herself smiling, and fought down the urge to grin at him like a fool. She could not get involved with him. If he was telling the truth, Malfoy was responsible for her breakup with Julian. She frowned.

"You broke me and Julian up!"

"It would have happened eventually, Ginny."

"You don't know that!" she replied shrilly.

"Yes, Ginny, I do. I know you. You need someone more assertive than him."

"Shut up!"

"Someone who is not so mindlessly noble."

"Stop it!"

"Someone with color and passion, who could match your temper with desire."

"Draco…"

"I can be that man, Ginevra. You know me. I am a man of deep passions who desires a woman like you to match me. Your temper draws me like a moth to a flame. I am helpless against you… your fire… your light…" He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, thrilled when she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Give me a chance," he whispered.

"I…"

"I never lied to you, Ginny. Everything I said was true. You know more about me than anyone else in this world."

She scowled. "Including Pansy Parkinson?"

"Especially Pansy Parkinson. Ginny, there was only one thing of mine Pansy was ever interested in. My billfold. She could care less if I like to watch the sunrise, dance naked in the moonlight or jump around barking like a dog."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, and then stopped herself. She remembered what he had said in his letter about being judged for his family name. It must be a thousand times harder than she imagined for him. There were so many expectations that went along with being the son of Lucius Malfoy. She believed him when he said his housemates would reject him. _So the question is, do I shove aside my doubt and risk getting royally screwed over by Malfoy? Or do I tell him to bugger off without knowing if he is actually telling the truth? _Ordinarily, she would go with her instincts on a situation like this. But this time they were confused. On one hand she got the feeling he was telling the truth. On the other, she felt there was another motivation driving him. _What the bloody hell do I do?_

"M…Draco. I need to think about this. A lot. I'm sure you understand my perspective. It's not just because of who your family is, it's because you have spent the last five years trying to make my life a living hell. I can't just forget that because of a few letters. The things you've done to Ron and Harry. The way you treat Hermione. They can't all just be washed away with a bunch of flowery words." She stood up. "I have to go. Someone will come looking for me if I'm not back soon." Picking up Harry's cloak, she headed to the door.

"Ginny, wait." Draco quickly trotted over to her and grabbed her hand. She flinched. "Easy, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to give you this." He dropped a letter into her hand, giving her a courtly bow over it.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Ginny muttered a thank you and pulled on the cloak, leaving Draco wondering what he was in for. _That went better than I thought_, he thought ironically. _At least she didn't hex me._

…_long silvery hair flashed in the dim light as Lucius Malfoy dropped respectfully to his knees before his Lord. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness as a clawed hand motioned for him to rise._

"_Sssspeak, my sservant."_

"_My Lord, I live but to serve you." The senior Malfoy gracefully rose to his feet. "I have news, my Lord." The red eyes focused on his most trusted Death Eater. "The book was correct, my Lord. All three artifacts were placed into the care of several Muggle families around Europe. I have managed to discover where the first two artifacts are, but the third is proving to be most elusive. Severus, I believe, may be of some help in finding out who guards the circlet."_

"_Indeed."_

"_Yes, my Lord. He has access to the Hogwarts' library restricted section. I believe the book we seek is housed there. Blackthorne's journal states that Headmistress Aurelia Paumeryl kept the only copy in existence." He chuckled. "It's fortunate she refused to allow the book to be destroyed."_

"_I would prefer not to risk Severus in this venture, Lucius. Let one of my junior servants retrieve it. They must prove themselves in some manner."_

"_But my Lord…"_

_The red eyes flashed. "Do you question me, Lucius?"_

_The Death Eater immediately dropped to his knees. "No, my Lord. To do your bidding is my life."_

The hot wash of anger awakened Harry to the fact that he was wrapped up in Voldemort's mind. He instinctively blocked his thoughts, trying to remain unnoticed. He had a feeling this was important.

"_You will inform the Acheron boy that he is to retrieve the book and deliver it to you next weekend while the students are in Hogsmeade."_

Harry could see Malfoy hesitate for a moment before his response.

"_Yes, my Lord."_

_Malfoy's hesitation infuriated the Dark Lord. His wand was out in an instant. "Crucio!"_

_Lucius bit his lip to prevent himself from screaming, and held himself upright for several seconds before succumbing to the pain. Harry almost felt sympathy for the man as he watched the wizard fall to the ground and curl up, screaming in agony. Pleasure at the sight filled Harry and he realized it was time for him to leave Voldemort's mind. He could not risk getting lost._

Focusing on his Occlumency lessons, Harry gently disentangled his thoughts from those of the dark wizard and quietly shut the connection into his mind…

Harry sat up, gasping.

"Harry?"

Hermione and Ron stood over him, gazing at him worriedly. Confused, he looked around and was momentarily surprised to find himself in the Gryffindor common room. No one else was around.

"Wha… what happened?" He tried to pull himself together.

Hermione sat next to him. "We came in to find you asleep, Harry."

"Yeah, mate. You were laid out on the couch like you'd planned to be there for a while."

"Oh! Right. I remember now." Harry mentally shook himself, willing the fuzziness away. "Is… er… what time is it?"

His bushy haired love smiled kindly. "It's after curfew, Harry. Ron and I just got done with our patrol." She frowned. "What are you doing sleeping on the couch?"

"Er… I was… uh… waiting up for you guys!"

Ron and Hermione gazed at him skeptically.

"Er… right. Not very believable is it?"

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Honestly, Harry! Did you really think we would fall for that?"

He smiled hopefully at them. "Er… not really. I… uh…"

Ron lost it. "Oh bloody hell, Harry! Just spill it already! Why weren't you upstairs sleeping?"

"I was… uh… waitingupforyoursister."

"What?"

"I was waiting up for your sister! All right, Ron? I wanted to make sure she got safely back to Gryffindor."

Ron's face broke out into a beatific smile. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Harry felt relieved that Ron seemed to be taking this well. He was afraid the fiery Gryffindor would ask him where she was.

"Well then," said Ron happily, "I suppose I'll just leave you to that. C'mon, 'Mione." He grabbed her arm.

Hermione wrenched away, fixing both of them with a harsh glare. "Don't call me that! I'm going upstairs!" Both boys were shocked as their best friend stomped up the stairs in a huff. Oddly enough, Harry noticed Ron seemed even more delighted. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Well. She's right mental, isn't she? She'll get over it. It's for the best anyway."

"What?" What was Ron talking about?

"Oh don't be shy, Harry. I know how it is." Harry reared back in surprise as his friend winked (WINKED!) at him.

"Er… I'm going upstairs, Ron. Goodnight." Harry began gathering his things.

"Goodnight, Harry!" Ron strolled up the stairs, whistling, leaving his best friend to gaze after him in puzzlement. He could not help but wonder who was truly mental in this situation. Making a note to talk with Hermione in the morning, Harry headed to bed, hoping Ginny was fine wherever she was. She had probably come in while he was sleeping, he figured, and just left him alone. He would have to talk with her and find out what happened with her secret admirer later.

Meanwhile, Ryselle was pacing the length of her office, trying to figure out what Severus Snape's problem was. Admittedly, she should never have slipped on her friendship with Remus. Aside from it being a sore spot with the Potions master, it was also a great way to break Dumbledore's confidence and reveal her involvement with Sirius. For some reason he still felt it very important that no one know she knew him.

That was it. That was probably why Severus was so angry. He thought she was lying to him. Bugger. Ryselle knew she was a pathetic liar. Despite the fact that she was a Gypsy, there was nothing in her that lent itself to outright lying. She was far better at obfuscating the truth and deflecting curiosity. Tactics like that would never work with Severus now that he knew her, however. Admittedly, both were still forms of lying, but far less direct. For all her so-called Gryffindor (according to Severus) qualities, she still thought in many ways like a Slytherin.

What was she supposed to do? She could not tell Severus that she knew Remus from last year. He would wonder how and there was no way Dumbledore would let her reveal that she was gallivanting around Europe with the werewolf's best friend. Damn it. He was going to hold this against her and it would destroy their friendship. He was such a bastard like that, holding grudges to him like precious jewels. How was she going to fix this?

"Maybe a version of the truth?" Ryselle turned to see the headmaster standing near the door. "They say the truth will set you free, my dear. I believe a small bit of honesty in this situation will not do any harm."

"What if he asks for details?"

"Tell him the truth. I have asked you not to speak of it."

"Why, Unc… Albus? Why can I not speak of Sirius, yet?"

"He is still a wanted man, Ryselle."

"He is dead!" she interrupted.

"True, but he is still wanted by the Ministry. The more people know, the more danger there is to you, Harry, and Remus. Not to mention the Order. Severus has enough secrets to keep, don't you think?" He gently gripped her shoulders. "I promise, my dear, as soon as it is safe to do so, you may tell him anything he might wish to know."

Ryselle nodded, understanding his words. Severus was a spy and because of that, he was at risk every time he was in the Dark Lord's presence of having his mind cracked. They could not risk Voldemort finding out what she knew and how she knew it. Talking about Sirius would inevitably lead to discussion about the way he died. One minor slip of her tongue combined with a slip of Severus' defenses would reveal that Ryselle knew far more than the average wizard about what was housed in the Department of Mysteries. The Veil was dangerous, and thanks to her grandfather, she was one of the few people in the world that understood what it truly was.

She shivered at the thought of how close the man was to finding the secret to immortality.

"Make him understand, my dear. Losing your friendship would be a terrible blow to him and I am not sure how much longer he can go on without someone with whom to share himself. Do not allow him to push you away."

Ryselle gave the headmaster a brief hug. "Thank you, Uncle. Albus. Er… sorry. I will do my best."

As she left, Albus Dumbledore sent out a brief entreaty to whatever Power may exist above them. Ryselle was going to need a lot of help if she was going to break through to an angry Severus Snape.

Ryselle knew Severus was down in the dungeons, locked behind the impressive wards and hidden entrance to his rooms. Knowing the direct approach was probably the best way to force his hand, she marched down to the lab. The door opened with a flick of her wand, and in moments she was outside the secret door.

She pounded on the door. "Severus! Severus, we need to talk. Let me in!"

Silence.

"Severus! I am sorry! I did not mean to lie to you! Please open the door and I will explain."

"Go away."

Ryselle pounded some more. "Severus Snape! Open this bloody door or I swear I will do it myself!"

"I would not recommend that, Professor Spellsinger. Leave me alone."

"Like hell," she muttered. Ryselle cast a complex shielding charm on herself. It would not last long, but should protect her sufficiently from any backlash from breaking through his wards. It took a few minutes to make sure she would be able to restore them immediately, but soon she was prepared.

"_Desino __munimentum_!" The wards dissipated in a whirl of magic. Two steps forward found her at his door, and another wave of her wand restored his protections. As she expected, the door flew open to reveal a shocked Severus Snape. She pushed past him before he could react. Shock turned to fury in an instant, and he grabbed her, pinning her to the wall before she could blink.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed. "Do you know what could have happened to you?"

"Why do you think I cast a shield first?"

"You stupid woman! You could have been severely hurt or killed! What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?"

"We need to talk, Severus."

"GET OUT!"

"No."

His eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"I said 'no' Severus. I will not leave until you agree to talk with me."

He grabbed her arms and began dragging her toward the door. "You will get out when I tell you to get out!"

"_Transeo_!"

Severus stumbled forward as her weight was abruptly gone. Whirling around, he pointed his wand at her now translucent form. "What the bloody hell?"

"You cannot touch me now, Severus. Now you will talk with me or we shall wait here for a very long time."

She never imagined his face could turn that particular shade of purple. "Get out, Ryselle, or so help me I will not be responsible for my actions…"

"You are angry because you think I was lying to you about Remus…"

"Get. Out."

"You believe I was lying to you in order to cover up some deep relationship between us or something equally distasteful to you…"

"Ryselle…" he warned.

"I was not lying to you because I wanted to hide something, Severus. I am not permitted to speak of how I know Remus. Dinnertime in the Great Hall is not the best place to begin airing secrets. Especially with the attention of all of Slytherin on us."

He sighed. "Please leave," he said, wearily.

"No, Severus. Not until you speak with me. Words other than telling me to get away from you."

"Ryselle…"

"I thought we were friends, Severus. I thought we could talk with each other when something was wrong. I am sorry I lied to you, but what was I supposed to say? I am sorry but I cannot discuss that here?"

"It might have been a better start than a lie!"

"Yes, and would you be the one stopping Thanos Acheron from taking word to his father that I have begun confiding secrets about one of the more public members of the Order to you? Or would you rather be questioned by Voldemort?"

"Do not say his name," the angry Slytherin grated.

"I apologize. But would you?"

"I…"

"You have been hurt, Severus, very badly. I know this. Anyone you allow to see the real you knows this. I did not know of a way to tell you about Remus in front of the students. I am sorry."

"You should not have come here."

"You should not have run away."

"Why not? You did."

"And lest you forget, you chased after me and I allowed you into my rooms so we could talk. I understood once you told me, Severus. You did not even give me a chance."

"I…"

"Is this what it is going to be like every time we have an argument?" Ryselle was beginning to get angry despite her efforts to remain calm. "Am I going to have to risk getting killed every time I need to speak with you about something you would rather avoid?"

He flinched.

"_Revenio_." Ryselle's body solidified. "I will not let you cast aside a friendship just because you cannot find it within yourself to forgive such a minor infraction."

"It wasn't minor," he snarled.

She stepped toward him, prompting him to raise his wand defensively. Her forward movement did not stop until his wand was against her chest.

"Then punish me, Severus. Cast a curse. Whatever you wish. I am no longer ethereal. No longer protected. If you truly think what I have done is so terrible, do with me what you will so we can go back to what we were before."

She could see in his eyes the struggle against the darkness within him and his desire for friendship and light. He was angry, she could tell, and felt betrayed by one of the few people he allowed close to him. It was a struggle for him to trust her.

Ryselle gently grasped his hand. "You are my friend, Severus. I would never hurt you. No matter what happens, no matter if you decide to hate me, or cast me out of your rooms, I will never harm you." She was silent a moment, hoping he would give her an indication of his feelings.

Nothing.

Knowing he needed to be left alone, Ryselle backed off, pausing only to caress his wand hand as she moved away. "Goodbye, Severus." She turned to leave.

"Wait."

Ryselle paused, her hand on the door handle.

"How do you know Lupin?"

She turned back. "I cannot tell you much, Severus, but I promise you I will tell you the whole story someday. The most basic explanation is that I met Remus last year after I agreed to watch over Harry for the summer. I honestly do not know him very well, but he has always been very nice to me and I liked the idea of helping him live a more normal life."

"Then you were not… involved?" he asked distastefully.

Ryselle wrestled her laugh into a soft chuckle. "No, Severus. Remus is not my type. He is simply a friend."

"I…" He strode over to her and gathered the amused witch into his arms. "I misunderstood, Ryselle. I…"

"You hate him. I know that, Severus. Please do not hate me because he is my friend, however. I cannot control what happened between the two of you, but I can be part of what happens between us. Please do not shut me out again?"

How could he resist those beautiful, pleading eyes? "I… will… try."

She smiled up at him, eyes shining. "That is all I can ask."

He gave her a smirk and then gestured for the door. "Shall we?"

"What?"

"Practice, my dear. Unless you wish to cancel…"

It was the closest thing to an apology she was ever going to get, and the olive branch she had been hoping for when she came down here. "Then let us go."

Elsewhere in the school, Ginny wandered through the corridors, her mind filled with uncertainty and shock. She was lucky none of the professors discovered her out after curfew. She knew her luck would not last, however, so she needed a destination. Somewhere to think. _I can't go back to Gryffindor like this_, she thought. _Where can I go? _ She stopped suddenly as she heard voices up ahead. Peering around the corner, she saw it was some dark-haired Slytherin and that arrogant berk Thanos.

"…it working?"

"Somehow I doubt it. It's not going to be remotely easy."

Thanos nodded. "Good. I want to see him fail. He has been top dog for too long. Keep me posted."

The other boy nodded. "I will. You'll be the first to know if he succeeds."

The two went off in separate directions, leaving Ginny wondering what on earth she just witnessed.

Walking a bit further, she noticed she was in the area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. She remembered Harry telling her that when he had problems, he went to either Professor Spellsinger, or Headmaster Dumbledore. Ginny figured Dumbledore was a bit busy to be dispensing advice on love, so she decided to see if Ryselle was available. She knew she was setting herself up for detention, but at this point, she did not care.

Ginny found the professor in the dueling hall, practicing with Professor Snape. She spotted a good corner away from the duel, and hunkered down to watch.

"Are you ready, Severus?"

"Yes."

The two professors presented their wands and paced out the appropriate dueling distance. They whirled around simultaneously, and cast their spells.

"_Tarantallegra_!"

"_Rictussepra_!"

Ryselle dived out of the way, Snape's spell narrowly passing over her head. Her opponent lunged to the side avoiding hers.

"_Incendio_!" A fireball flew at the potions master.

"_Protego_!" A golden shield appeared in front of him, absorbing the spell.

"_Contegabrogo_!" The shield collapsed. "_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Incipicoeos_!" Snape kept hold of his wand.

"_Fodio_!" A small eldritch bolt flew at Snape's hand.

"_Stupi_…ow!"

"_Expelliarmus_!" The Potions master's wand went flying. "_Accio wand_!"

The duel ended with Ryselle holding both wands. Severus Snape stood glaring at her from under a curtain of stringy hair.

She smiled. "Come now, Severus. I would hardly be a good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher if I did not have some trick up my sleeve."

"The Stinging Curse? I'm insulted. That is a child's prank."

Ryselle laughed. "Not if it works, it is not. Here," she handed him his wand. "Give me your hand."

Snape grudgingly held out his hand, and Ginny could see several red welts on it, as if an insect had stung him.

To her amazement, Ryselle placed her fingers over the welts and began to sing softly. White light surrounded her fingers and the wounds disappeared. She had no idea her teacher was a healer! Ginny took a glance at Snape, and was surprised to see a pained look of hopeless longing on his face. It was quickly gone.

"There. All better now. Same time tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he replied sardonically. "I live for the opportunity to be your experimental subject."

She laughed. "And a very good one you are, Severus. Thank you."

He nodded, and then left the room.

Ryselle waited until he was safely gone before closing the door. "Okay, I know you are in here. You might as well show yourself."

Ginny flinched in surprise. _ How did she know_, she wondered. She stood up and removed the cloak.

The professor looked surprised. "Ginny?"

"Yes professor. It's me."

"What is it, my dear? Anything wrong?" She seemed concerned.

"Uh, well, it depends on your perspective. I was, uh, hoping I could talk with you about something. I didn't mean to interrupt."

She smiled. "That is all right. Severus and I were just practicing. Come, let us go to my office."

The professor led the girl through a door into a small room, filled with of books and papers. Despite the clutter, it still had a sense of organization about it. She gestured for Ginny to take a chair. "What is on your mind?"

Ginny hesitated for a moment, and then remembered what Harry said about the new professor being trustworthy. She took a deep breath, and told Ryselle the story of her and SA. The whole story.

"…and then tonight I found out that SA is none other than Draco Malfoy. How strange is that?"

"Hm," Ryselle mused. "It sounds to me like he might be telling the truth."

Ginny's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ginny, think about it. From the beginning, he told you he did not want you to know who he was because he would be afraid you would reject him out of hand. And even after months of writing him, you are still not able to accept him, seeing only the Malfoy everyone else sees."

"But Professor…"

"You do not believe that he has told you the truth in his letters. Yet you have not given him the opportunity to prove otherwise. Perhaps he is not lying about needing to behave the way he does to escape punishment from his family. Severus has told me a number of things that indicate to me that Draco Malfoy has certain expectations placed on him by his parents, their friends, and…others."

"Like Voldemort."

"Yes. Like Voldemort." She looked searchingly at the girl. "You see Ginny, you and your family have an incredible amount of freedom. You can choose the path you wish because your parents make sure the family is taken care of and not drawn into a mess they cannot escape. At this point, even if the Malfoys wanted to leave Voldemort's service, they cannot. They know too much. The only way out would be death. You cannot blame Draco for wanting to survive."

"But he's going to be a Death Eater."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is possible he will find a way to escape that fate. For all we know, you may be key to that."

"Me?"

"Ginny, let me ask you this. Before you found out tonight that SA was Draco Malfoy, would you have helped him if he asked?"

"Well…yes!"

"Then why has that changed?"

She stopped and thought about it. "Because I'm assuming everything he said is a lie."

"That is not a good way to live, Ginny. If we do not give the Draco Malfoys of the world a chance, then what motivation do they have to be different?"

Ginny nodded.

"I am not saying you have to walk into it blind and naïve. Protect yourself. Make sure you cannot be used against your will. Perhaps you should continue writing for a while to get to know each other better. At least you know now who you are dealing with now."

The redheaded girl thought about it. She bobbed her head in agreement. "Yes, I think that's a good idea. Thank you, Professor." She got up.

Ryselle smiled. "You are welcome, Ginny. Come any time. But before curfew. You realize I have to give you detention?"

"Yes, I knew that when I decided to come."

"Good. I will see what I can do to make it as painless as possible. Do you have Quidditch practice tomorrow?"

She shook her head.

"Then come by around nine tomorrow. You can add an unknown element to my practice with Severus. If you beat one of us, I will let you out early."

"Yes, Professor."

"Goodnight, Ginny."

The young Gryffindor turned and left.

Ginny returned to Gryffindor determined to give Draco's letter the same consideration she would have given SA's. The Golden Trio was nowhere to be found to her great relief. She curled up in her favorite chair, holding the letter he had given her. A small slip of paper fell out when she opened it.

_Ginny,_

_The letter you hold in your hand is the first I have written you as myself. I hope you read it. I know I have said and done things to make you believe I am not to be trusted. I don't blame you. There are times I don't trust myself. I decided to meet you tonight in the hopes that we can work past our differences and at least be friends as we have over the past couple months. I enjoy talking with you, and would dearly hate for it to end. Please read my letter before making a decision. _

_DM_

Ginny looked at the note astounded. Draco had written her a letter knowing full well that she might burn it in effigy. She wondered what it contained. Part of her was afraid, knowing how powerful magic could be contained in the written word. The rest of her was curious. She thought back to what Professor Spellsinger said about giving people like Draco another chance, and decided to open the letter and read it. It was a risk that might be worth whatever price that came with it.

She opened the envelope and inside was a single sheet of the grey vellum he had used for his letters to her. She also saw that he had enclosed a small charm to put on the bracelet he had given her a few weeks ago. It was a silver snake with jade eyes. Setting it aside, she pulled out the letter.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_Where do I begin? You asked me to tell you more of myself, so I will. I hope the answers do not disturb you too much. As you know, I am part of Slytherin House, often considered the leader. My family is of an old and noble lineage, but has been sullied as of late by the actions of by beloved father. I wish I could say I had a joyous childhood growing up, but the loveless environment provided for me perhaps affected the development of my character far more that I would have liked. I have always been expected to be the best. When Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, my father made it quite clear to me that I was to find a way to either befriend him or humiliate him and prove my superiority. It obviously backfired. And now I have made him my enemy. At the time, I thought what I was doing was right. For five years, I have followed my father's orders without question. I guess I always thought that I would be able to have the freedom to do what I want if I had the power offered by Voldemort. _

_My father always spoke of the glories associated with serving him, and how I would be exalted in his service one day. For the longest time it's all I wanted. Then I found out the truth. Voldemort is a liar. He hsd led his followers to believe that they will rule the Wizarding world by his side, but in reality he is using them. He doesn't care about anything but attaining power and destroying all who stand in his way. I refuse to be a lackey, Ginny. I have no desire to be a Death Eater, but one day I may not have the choice. Ironically enough, my only hope may lie with my mortal enemy. This past summer I experienced freedom for the first time in my life. I discovered I like it. So now I refuse to give it up for anyone, and have rebelled against my parents. I wish I could say I told Voldemort to bugger off, but that's not realistic. He would kill me without a second thought as he killed Cedric Diggory._

_Exchanging letters with you has truly been a pleasure. I can only hope it continues. I understand if you do not want to have anything to do with me. I don't treat you or your friends and family well. At least let me explain. If my father finds out I am not behaving in a way he feels is appropriate to my position, then he will disown me if I am lucky, or have me killed if I am not. Nor is he above using the Imperious Curse. Someday, perhaps, I will have the freedom to walk down the hallways with you on my arm telling everyone to bugger off if they don't like it, but now is not the time. That is why I didn't want to tell you my identity. I couldn't stand the thought of never hearing from you again._

_Please write back, Ginny. I understand that you may not be prepared to be friends with Draco Malfoy, but perhaps we could start out as pen pals. It seems to have worked well so far._

_I look forward to your reply._

_DM_

_(I have enchanted this letter so it will destroy itself once you finish reading it. There are things in here that cannot fall into hostile hands.)_

Ginny dropped the letter as the words caught fire. It quickly burned up the page, and she was left only with the ashes. She wished she could have taken the letter to Professor Spellsinger for her to read, but Ginny understood what Draco meant. If his father or Voldemort found out what he had written in that letter… her heart clenched at the thought. There has to be some way to help him.

She decided to let his words rest in her mind for a little while before she wrote him back.

The next morning, Harry went downstairs only to find everyone had already left for breakfast. That Ron went down was not surprising, but he wondered where Hermione was. They usually headed to the Great Hall together. Odd. Harry looked up as he heard someone coming downstairs from the girls' dorm and smiled, thinking it was Hermione.

He was surprised to see a somber Ginny Weasley instead.

"Ginny?"

Her head flew up. "Oh! Hi, Harry. Good morning."

"Morning, Gin. Er… could you tell me if Hermione is upstairs? It's time for breakfast."

"Yes, I know! I'm starving." She frowned. "Harry, Hermione left the dorm early this morning. Honestly, I thought she was meeting you."

He shook his head. "Unfortunately not. I thought she was coming to breakfast with me."

"Oh. I don't know, Harry. Maybe she had something important to study for."

"Er… yeah." Ginny started to head toward the portrait hole. "Ginny, wait!"

She turned back, irritated. No one should ever stand between a Weasley and food.

"I just wanted to know how it went last night. Did you meet him?"

Her eyes turned wary. "Why do you ask?"

"Bloody hell, Ginny! I'm concerned about you. Is that so wrong? Now what happened?" Harry was really starting to lose his patience this morning. First Hermione deserted him and now Ginny was being evasive about her meeting last night. After he spent the better part of the evening being humiliated by her brother in an attempt to keep him occupied. He scowled.

"Oh, bleeding hell, Harry. Fine! It was… not what I expected." He gazed at her expectantly. "I… It was someone I certainly was not expecting."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Harry, and no, I'm not going to tell you. Not yet."

"But…"

"No, Harry. I need to figure some things out first, and then I'd like to see if we have a chance at working out." Ginny looked at him pleadingly. "Please just leave it alone. For now."

Harry thought he had a good idea who Ginny's secret admirer was, but he wanted confirmation on something before accepting his theory. He nodded, but did not let her off the hook that easily. "Is he in Slytherin?"

Her eyes widened in shock.

"I'll take that as a yes." He smiled. "Fine, Ginny, I won't do anything. But I would like you to tell me about it at some point. Maybe once things are worked out."

She smiled in relief. "Not a problem, Harry. Thanks."

It was obvious to Harry that his younger friend was in dire need of breakfast, so he stuck his elbow out like a gentleman, grinning impishly. "Shall we?"

Taking the proffered arm, she nodded. "Let's."

Harry never expected the stir that resulted from him escorting Ginny to breakfast. Most of the students looked up when he walked in, and he received some hard looks from several of them, including Julian, Dean, Hermione, and Draco Malfoy. His smile faltered at the apparent hostility. Ginny, on the other hand, was oblivious, chattering away about the upcoming holiday. He and Hermione were invited to the Burrow, and truthfully, Harry had considered turning down the invitation to stay at Hogwarts. He refused to ruin Hermione's holiday, however, but could not stand the thought of her being there without him. Around Ron.

Ginny said a cheerful hello to everyone before piling her plate high and digging in. Hermione was picking at her food, which told Harry she was stressed over something, and Ron was, well, Ron.

"Morning, Hermione, Ron."

"Mrrnff, Hrrry."

Hermione was silent, a sure sign that she was tired. She must have been up all night studying, thought Harry. Filling his plate with relish, he decided to give her some time to wake up before asking her what the problem was. He did not expect her to stand up suddenly, grab her bag, and rush out the door. He looked after her, confused.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"What was that?"

"Huh?"

"Why did Hermione just rush out of here like her hair was on fire?"

"Surely you didn't think she would take things well, Harry," replied Lavender.

"What?"

Lavender smiled condescendingly at him. "We all expected it to happen, Harry, but I guess she just wasn't ready for it."

"What? Ready for what? Hermione's ready for everything!"

"Not for you to start going out with Ginny she's not."

Harry gazed incredulously at Parvati. "WHAT?"

Ginny's head whipped around. "What did you say, Parvati?"

Blithely ignoring the dangerous tones of Ron's rather temperamental sister, the gossipy Gryffindor smirked. "It's already all over the school, Ginny. We all figured you and Harry would get together, but I can see how he needed to get his female best friend out of his system first."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and her face turned thunderous. "Really," she said in the deceptively soft tones Harry recognized as a sign of impending doom.

Parvati obviously was not aware of the danger. "Yes. I mean, you're perfect for Harry. You love Quidditch, he loves Quidditch. You're funny and exciting while Hermione is bookish and boring." Harry felt his temper starting to rise. "You're beautiful and athletic while Hermione is…"

"If you finish that thought, Parvati, you will wish you were never born," said Harry quietly.

She gaped.

"Parvati," said Ginny sweetly, "you really are behind the times, aren't you? The Hermione you described is the one painted by immature twelve-year-olds with no lives. The real Hermione is studious yes, but she also has the brightest future ahead of her. Because of her 'bookish' tendencies, she's probably going to be running the Ministry of Magic while you are down in the lunch room, painting your toenails and hoping the janitor notices you." Parvati gasped. "I think all that incense has scrambled your brains if you think Hermione isn't beautiful. I suppose you forgot our fourth year at the Yule ball, or all those times you and Padma wished for her perfect skin and curvy figure. I seem to remember something about a skirt you couldn't wear…"

"Okay! I get it. Hermione's great. Fine." She turned to Harry. "So why did you dump her, then?"

"I…" His objection stuck in his throat. It suddenly hit him that that was exactly what he did. He glared at her. "How long have people been talking about this?"

Parvati looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Since it happened, Harry. Really! You should listen to people more."

"I'm sorry. I got out of the habit after last year," he informed her coldly.

"Oh. Er… right. So anyway, what happened to you guys if she's so wonderful, Harry?"

Once glance over at Ron told him all he needed to know about his friend's knowledge of what was going on. Bloody prat. "Did you know about this?"

"Uh… what do you mean, Harry?" Ron smiled weakly at the irate Gryffindor, hoping there was not about to be a scene.

"Ugh! That's it! Parvati, Ginny and I are NOT going out! Lavender, I did not need to 'get Hermione out of my system'!" He stood up. "Now leave us alone!"

Harry stormed out of the Hall, intent on finding Hermione. He figured she was probably in the Library, and hoped she was willing to listen to him. He really handled this entire situation badly, he realized. It never occurred to him to wonder what people would think of him and Hermione's breakup. She must have been putting up with comments from the other girls for weeks now. Why did she keep that from him? _Because she didn't want me to do something stupid_, he thought.

Hermione was not in the Library, nor was she in Gryffindor Tower or any of the classrooms. He decided to check out the Maurader's Map to see where she was located. He found her small dot resting next to the lake. Cursing himself for an idiot, he ran out the door and headed to her favorite "thinking place." He wished he had the Invisibility Cloak, but it was still in Ginny's possession. Now was not the time to hunt her down to get it.

He saw Hermione sitting on her rock, staring out at the lake. From her posture, he could tell she was upset, and bet his Firebolt that she was crying silently over what was a terrible misunderstanding. He stealthy crept toward her, intending to surprise her with a passionate kiss. Instead he found himself on the business end of her wand.

"Harry?" Hermione quickly snatched her wand back, returning it to her pocket. "Harry, what are you doing here?"

Ignoring her glare, he sat down next to her and grabbed her hand.

"Harry! What…"

"Shhhh. Listen, 'Mione…"

"Don't call…"

He gently placed his finger on her lips. "Shhhhh. Let me say something." The anger in her eyes melted away to be replaced by curiosity. "They're wrong, 'Mione. You're not ugly, your not boring, and you're certainly not unworthy of me. That's not why we broke up. You should know that."

Her eyes shifted downward.

"Look at me. 'Mione, the only reason I'm not with you right now is because it's too dangerous. I thought I explained that. I thought you under…"

She interrupted. "I never agreed with you, Harry. I understand what you said, but really, how can you expect me to believe all that if you go traipsing around with Ginny Weasley?"

"I wasn't…"

"You were in the common room when Ron and I went on patrol. You were still there after we got back three hours later, obviously settled on the couch to wait for her. You were asleep, Harry, and apparently quite happy to be exactly where you were!"

"What, so I waited up for her. What does that matter?"

Hermione glared. "When was the last time you waited up for me?"

"Oh for Merlin's… Hermione! How can you ask that? I… why were you on patrol with Ron for three hours? Your patrol is only two."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly! We had to deal with a problem between some second-years. Slytherin and Gryffindor, of course. Professor Snape spent so much time haranguing us for victimizing his poor students that we wound up getting out of the headmaster's office half an hour later. Ron suggested we get some hot chocolate from the kitchen and we wound up chatting for a short while."

"About what?"

"What?"

"What were you chatting about?"

"Er… why is that important, Harry?"

"Because it is, Hermione!"

"I'll tell you what we were talking about if you tell me what you were dreaming about."

"What?"

"You were moaning, Harry. It… it sounded… odd."

He flushed. "Oh, er… it wasn't anything… spectacular."

"Really." She said flatly.

"Er… yeah. Really."

"Leave, Harry."

"What?"

"I said 'leave'."

"But…"

"Unless you want to tell me the truth."

He sighed. This had gotten way out of hand. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I… I'm sorry, 'Mione. I just… I really don't want to talk about it yet."

"I see."

"It's… it's not what you think."

"Really."

Harry knew things were going very badly and they were only getting worse. He was afraid to tell her, however. She would yell at him for going into Voldemort's mind and insist he go to Professor Spellsinger or the headmaster. He was already stressed enough about the new training sessions with them. Headmaster Dumbledore was, if anything, a stricter taskmaster than the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. His mind was feeling overworked and badly rested, which is why he was napping while he waited for Ginny. Both professors told him to keep his extra training to himself, so Hermione and Ron had no idea he was going through a mental workout every night for an hour after dinner. It was getting harder and harder to keep their curiosity at bay, but he only had another week and a half of it before he was done. At the rate he was improving, he would be able to control his telepathic abilities just in time for the holiday.

"'Mione…"

"You know what, Harry? Never mind! It's obvious you don't want to share what is going on with you and I honestly don't want to continue spending all my time guessing as to what you're up to. So fine! Do whatever you want, but do it without me. I'm tired of this." Hermione was beginning to get hysterical. "You disappear every night and refuse to tell us where you've been. Well I guess I can figure out the answer to that! I can't believe you still have the audacity to pretend that the only reason we're not together was because you're afraid Voldemort will target me. Well guess what Harry – I'm a target anyway. I'm a target because I'm your best friend. So's Ron. And before you start getting all noble and self-sacrificing about the two of us, let me remind you that this war is about a lot more than just you.

"Ron and I are targets without you, Harry. Me, because I'm a brilliant muggle-born who is more powerful than most pure-bloods at this school. Ron, because his entire pure-blood family opposes Voldemort and is not shy about it. My family will be among the first to suffer because of me and what I can do, Harry. Not you! And what about poor Ron? He's already lost Percy because of this…"

"…because of me…"

"NO! Not because of you! Because he is so blinded by ambition that he's willing to reject his entire family for the opportunity to get ahead. And now he won't admit that he was wrong because of his stupid pride! The world does not revolve around Harry Potter!"

"I don't want you to get hurt! I don't want them to come after you more than they already do!"

"Do you honestly think they're that stupid, Harry?" Her soft response caught him off guard.

"What?"

"Do you really think Voldemort and his Death Eaters care whether or not you have formally acknowledged your feelings for me? You think they can't tell how you feel? How stupid do you think they are?"

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"They're not going to go after me because you tell the world that I'm your girlfriend, Harry. They'll go after me because they know it will hurt you. Whether I am your best friend, girlfriend, or lover. They. Don't. Care."

Harry had to admit she had a point. Deep down, however, he still felt she was better off if he kept his distance. It was a hard decision, but ultimately, her safety was the most important thing to him. Aside from her friendship. Glancing quickly at her, he could tell she was very upset. He knew she wanted to know about his dream, but why was she so distraught over it?

Suddenly it all made sense.

"_It's already all over the school, Ginny. We all figured you and Harry would get together, but I can see how he needed to get his female best friend out of his system first…" " When was the last time you waited up for me..." "You disappear every night and refuse to tell us where you've been. Well I guess I can figure out_ _the answer to that…"_

"You're jealous?" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Wh… what?"

"'Mione, are you jealous of Ginny?"

"Wha… why would you think that?" Her eyes looked anywhere but him and her face was flushed.

He laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" She glared at him indignantly.

"It… it's just… you can't…"

She huffed and turned away, angry that he was having a laugh at her expense.

Harry quickly stifled his amusement. "'Mione… love… please look at me."

Hermione whirled to face him at the endearment. Her lip trembled and he could see the vulnerability in her eyes. He needed to be careful here. Thanks to his need to protect her, things had gone dangerously wrong.

He took her hand. "I love you, Hermione Granger. I love you with everything I am. I…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize things were so bad for you. Why didn't you tell me what all those people were saying?"

"I… thought you knew," she whispered.

Pulling her closer, he wrapped his arms around her. "No. I wish I had known. Although, it's probably better that I didn't." She jerked back in surprise. "I would have lost a hideous amount of points for Gryffindor," he continued mischievously.

She laughed.

"Don't believe it, 'Mione. You are far better than they will ever understand. You're beautiful, inside and out; intelligent – brilliant, really; caring, compassionate, and best of all, you understand me. You love me despite the fact that you know more about me than anyone else in this world. You understand more than even I probably know and still you stay with me and tell me when I'm being a git."

"You're being a git, Harry."

He chuckled. "You are the one I want to be with. Not Ginny Weasley. She's… well, like a sister, really. I mean, we have Quidditch and the Weasely family in common. What else really is there? She's not the one that's been with me since the beginning, by my side, fighting for my life and the lives of everyone we care about. When I think about the person I want beside me, I think of you." He kissed her softly. "I think of you all the time, 'Mione. It kills me to be away from you like this, but…" She buried herself in his arms. "You're right. I guess it is obvious how I feel about you. But if we stay apart… if I keep telling myself that we're friends now and can be together when this is all over… I can think. I can breathe. And I'm not nearly as afraid. I know, it's stupid. But having you as my girlfriend makes me more afraid than I can explain. I can't… the fear is overwhelming." His arms tightened around her. "You're brilliant, 'Mione. You can keep you and Ron safe if you pay attention, which you do, and keep yourself prepared for anything. When the time comes, Voldemort will probably try to get you, but ultimately it can only be him and me. I don't think I can face that if we're truly together. Maybe I'm a coward, but…"

"Shhhh. I understand, Harry. I… well, honestly I still don't agree with you. I think we're stronger together. All three of us. But I see your point and will respect your wishes."

"I'm not with Ginny, Hermione. I never have been. Maybe at one time it might have been possible, but you and I have been through too much together for anyone to hold a candle to the bond we share. I love you." He kissed her. "I always will." Another kiss. "There will never be another." Burying his fingers in her silky hair, he captured her mouth, pouring all his love into his kiss. Hermione returned it with equal passion, stopping only at the sound of a twig breaking nearby.

It was Ron.

He scowled at them. "Class is starting in ten minutes."

The day passed slowly, placing itself firmly in Harry's list of most unpleasant days of his life. Students either glared at him or offered him congratulations for finally getting together with Ginny Weasley. Ron was infuriated to find out how popular his sister was with the other boys and spent most of the day glowering at everyone that came near them. Hermione was on the verge of tears all day and it was all Harry could do not to leap up on his desk and tell everyone how he loved her. The most he could do, however, was confirm Ginny's assertion that they were just friends and that someone misunderstood what was going on.

By the end of the day he was furious.

Harry stalked back to Gryffindor, looking as if he was going to hex the next person that spoke with him. He just wanted to get away from all the gossiping chatter and prying eyes. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain that the entire situation was ridiculous. Unfortunately, Harry found himself agreeing with Snape for once on the intellectual capacity of his classmates. Lavender and Parvati especially. If he had to hear one more thing about Trelawney's prophesizing his and Ginny's marriage, he was going to explode.

"Potter."

_Bugger. Not now._ He turned, unsurprised to see Draco Malfoy and his two goons. "Leave me alone, Malfoy. Now is a very bad time."

The Slytherin smirked. "Yes, I understand that today has been a delightful exercise in trying to quell the rumours that you and the Weaselette finally got together. That must have been entertaining."

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"To thank you."

"What?"

"Thanks to you, this has been one of the most interesting days in this pathetically boring year. I simply can't wait to see what the rumour-mill has planned for you next."

Harry felt his ire beginning to spiral out of control. He turned to walk away.

"Really, Potter. How can you be surprised at the way people have reacted to your little display this morning? I imagine Granger was quite unimpressed. Maybe you should go find your little Mudblood and give her some of that Gryffindor comfort. I hear she's up in the east tower, weeping her eyes out."

Draco turned, jerking his head for Crabbe and Goyle to follow, and then paused. "I also understand the Weaselette has cornered most of your house and is giving them a rather significant piece of her mind." He smirked. "Merlin knows they can use it."

Harry looked at the Slytherin Prefect in surprise. "Er… thanks, Malfoy. I'll… er…"

"Just go, Potter." Draco spun and left without another word.

_Was Malfoy helping me?_ There were a lot of things that surprised Harry over the years, but the thought of Draco Malfoy helping him find Hermione in order to console her was probably the strangest. Maybe he was right about the identity of Ginny's secret admirer. Merlin. When Ron found out, he and Hermione would be the least of his concerns. Shaking his head, he trotted off toward the east wing.

Hermione was curled up on the floor of the east tower, obviously having cried herself to sleep. Her head rested on her cloak, honey-brown locks of curly hair spread around her like a halo. She looked so peaceful like this, all lines of sadness and worry gone from her face. Harry hated the idea of waking her up just to see it all return. Maybe he could hold off for a little while. He went over and sat down next to her, tenderly stroking her hair as she slept. A tiny smile came to her lips and he had to resist the impulse to kiss her. Carefully so as not to wake her, he pulled her head into his lap and then watched over her. His hand found its way to her hair again and she gave a contented sigh as he began running gentle fingers through the soft curls.

_She is so beautiful_, he thought. How anyone could think Hermione was unworthy of him he could never fathom. If anything, he figured they would think him unworthy of her. She was brilliant, caring, friendly, knowledgeable – the brightest witch of her age – and loyal. Hermione's loyalty to her friends was unshakable and the love she felt for him was unbounded. What he did to deserve it he had no idea, but he swore he would find a way to keep it.

"I love you," he whispered.

Hermione sighed contentedly and snuggled further into his lap. "I love you too, Harry," she said softly.

"Are you awake, love?"

"Mmmm hmmm. Just enjoying this."

He smiled. Sneaky woman. "You feeling better?"

She groaned. "A bit. A lot more now that you're here, actually. I… I'm glad you came. I guess I needed you more than I thought."

"I'll always be there when you need me, 'Mione. No matter what."

Her arm snaked around him and gave him a squeeze. "Thank you, Harry."

He snorted ruefully. "It was really bad, wasn't it?"

"Terrible."

"I really buggered things up."

"Royally."

"I never thought people would still be on about me getting together with Ginny. Especially now that she… er… uh…"

"Met her secret admirer?"

"Er… yeah. How did you…"

"I'm not an idiot, Harry.

"I know, love. I guess I just…"

She sat up and placed a finger on his lips. "It's okay. It's just been a very hard day. I imagine it hasn't been easy for Ginny and Ron, either."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. Especially with Ron gleefully helping the rumours along. He was so thrilled at the idea of me and Ginny."

"Ugh. And he was thrilled at the thought that maybe I might turn to him for comfort."

"Is that why you're up here instead of back at the dorms?"

She nodded. "I was tired of him trying to console me. It was so insincere and all I wanted to do was hex him."

"It was Lavender and Parvati for me. I could have cheerfully made all their hair fall out during Independent Study today."

"Oh no!"

"All they could talk about was how Ginny and I belonged together – you know, the Handsome Prince and the Helpless but Beautiful Princess – and that it was about time we got off our duffs and made a go at it. Then they started babbling about how they predicted it and how Madam Trelawney foresaw everything, including my tragic death. But not before giving birth to a son who will change the world." He grimaced. "Then she made me write my own prediction based on the feelings I had for my 'new girlfriend'."

"Oh Harry, that's terrible."

Harry snorted. "It gets better. "Trewlawny thought I didn't put the proper effort into my prediction. She made me stay after class because she was unhappy with it. I guess the death was not gruesome enough."

The beautiful Gryffindor snorted. "So you changed it?"

"No, actually it was pretty odd. She told me I needed to release my fears and only then could I achieve oneness with my destiny. Then she started spouting off all sorts of rubbish."

"Oh dear. What did she say?"

He shrugged. "Something about the essence of the Founders being reborn in the souls of their children and all that rot."

Hermione looked at him, suddenly very serious. "Harry. Do you remember exactly what she said?"

"Er… I wrote it down in my notes."

"Good." She leaped up. "Come on! I need to go check something. Meet me in the Library with your notes."

"But, what about…"

"Bring Ron with you. It's important!"

Before Harry could react, Hermione gave him a swift peck on the lips and darted out the door.

It was not easy to drag Ron out of the common room. Things had calmed down and he was seated by the fire, embroiled in a particularly challenging game of wizard's chess with Seamus. Ron ignored Harry the first several times he tried to get his attention, paying mind only to the game. Frustrated, Harry waved his wand over the board, freezing all the pieces.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" Ron glared at him indignantly.

Harry grabbed his arm. "You can come back and finish the game later. This is more important."

Ron pulled away. "I case you forgot, Harry, I am a prefect. I have patrol in less than an hour!"

"Which is why we need to go now. Hermione's waiting."

"What… where are we going, Harry?"

"Where else?"

Ron rolled his eyes at the familiar sight of the library doors. "I should have guessed," he muttered.

Hermione was seated at her regular table, surrounded by books. Most of them were very large, covered in dust and obviously very old.

"All right, Hermione, what is it?" Ron asked without preamble.

"Harry, let me see your notes."

Ron sighed noisily, making his annoyance plain as the raven-haired Gryffindor handed over the slim book. Hermione ignored him and immediately turned it to the last written page and began to read.

_In the Time of Great Darkness_

_Shall the essence of the Founders return in the souls of their children._

_Born to Light, there will be a Son and Daughter, imbued with the Powers of the Ancients._

_Together with Merlin's Daughter and the Son of Shadows_

_They shall forge an Alliance of the sons and daughters of Magic._

_With the Healer, the Seer, the Guardian and the Companion_

_They will change the face of the world and bring Peace eternal._

_But be wary, for the soul of the Evil One shall call to its shadow_

_And betrayal shall rip the bonds of Light apart._

_All will be lost if the Beloved falls to Darkness._

Hermione gasped. "Oh my god! This is it! I can't believe it."

"What?"

"She did it again, Harry. Trelawney actually channeled another prophecy." He gazed at her, shocked. "To be more accurate, she completed an already existing prophecy. Take a look."

Harry looked over her shoulder, along with Ron who joined reluctantly, to see the large tome in front of Hermione. It was open to a page covered in large, loopy handwriting. On the opposite page was a picture of Cassandra Trelawney, the woman responsible for what was labeled the "Founder's Foretelling". According to the short narrative, it was the final prediction of the great Seer and was never completed. _The only thing she would say about it, _said the book_, was that "one day, a child of her line would finish it once the pieces were in place." For years, the world of Divination has awaited such an event, but as of the writing of this book, neither her daughter or granddaughter have managed to complete the prophecy._

Hermione continued matter-of-factly. "It's also known as the 'Unfinished Prophecy' and there's a reward for the person that registers it."

Harry glanced over the handwritten page.

_In the Time of Great Darkness_

_Shall the essence of the Founders return in the souls of their children._

_Born to Light, there will be a Son and Daughter, imbued with the Powers of the Ancients._

_Together with Merlin's Daughter and the Son of Shadows_

_They shall forge an Alliance of the sons and daughters of Magic._

"The entire last half of the prophecy isn't there!" he exclaimed.

Hermione nodded. "It's been one of the great puzzles of the Wizarding world. Cassandra Trelawney always said that there was more to it, but as time has passed, fewer people believed it. There are some who say that she was only trying to get more attention than she already had."

Harry snorted.

"So what's the big deal?" asked Ron belligerently.

"The big deal, Ronald, is that Madam Trelawney, great-great-granddaughter of one of the greatest seers that ever lived, completed an ancient prophecy that seems to provide hints as to how we defeat the 'Evil One' and bring peace to the world." Hermione glared. "Honestly! One would think even you would understand that!"

"This coming from the girl who walked out on Divination."

"I walked out, Ronald, because Madam Trelawney's class is a fake. Nothing she teaches has any value in the magical world whatsoever. I refused to spend my time reading tea leaves and making predictions about Harry's death when I could be studying real instances of Divination and the methods by which it is used."

Harry looked surprised. "That's your current project, isn't it? You're trying to figure out how to make Divination more scientific."

"That's Arithmancy, Harry. I was actually working with Firenze to understand the process of Divination." She ducked her head, embarrassed. "I think the only thing I learned was that there is no process and that I will never understand it."

Ron grinned as if it were Christmas. "Did I just hear you correctly? Did the Great Hermione Granger finally admit that there is something that she doesn't know? By Merlin, I need to write this down."

Hermione glared. "You're not helping, Ronald."

"What's with the 'Ronald' anyway? Are you upset or something?"

"You think?"

Harry interposed himself as Ron stepped toward his female best friend. "Whoa. That's it, guys. Time to get to your corners and cool off." Ron looked confused. "That means relax, Ron. There's no need to fight."

Hermione harrumphed and muttered under her breath.

Ignoring her quiet commentary, Harry asked, "So what now? Do we take this to Dumbledore?"

"I think that would be a good idea. At the very least, he needs to know about it. Maybe he can see if it's an authentic prophecy."

Harry frowned. "So, what if it is? What do we do then?"

"Oy, we can burn that bridge when we cross it, mate."

Harry and Hermione snickered. "Right. Let's be off, then."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the surprise of something less soap operatic. I've always intended to have more adventure in this story. My problem is that I'm just too bloody long-winded and wanted to get some of the drama out of the way before I started on the adventure. Let me know what you think. 


	15. Silent Lucidity

Sorry so late. Believe it or not, I actually had this completed last weekend, but I couldn't upload. Fortunately, things seem fine now. Yay for trouble tickets! Thanks for reading.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked up curiously as Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley entered his office. He eyed Harry, wondering what was so important that the boy would use the password given to him by the headmaster for his telepathy lessons.

He smiled broadly in greeting. "Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" His look to Harry was pointed.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "Er… Sorry for disturbing you, sir, but something rather odd happened earlier today and we thought you should know about it."

"I see. Well then, have a seat and tell me about it. Lemon drop?"

Hermione shook her head while the two boys accepted the proffered sweets. "Headmaster Dumbledore, this afternoon Harry had an… interesting encounter with Madam Trelawney. Apparently she slipped into another trance state and spoke another prophecy." The bushy-haired girl smiled. "Ordinarily, I would have told Harry to forget about it, sir, but what he said reminded me of something I read a few weeks ago." She opened her bag and pulled out a large tome. "This is the…"

"Founders Foretelling, yes, Miss Granger, I am aware of the prophecy. I must admit to a certain curiosity as to your point."

"Sorry, sir." She set Harry's notes next to the entry on Cassandra Trelawney. "This is my point. Harry copied what she said down and it matches the foretelling exactly for the first verse…"

"But the second half appears completely original." Dumbledore pinned Harry with a stare. "Is this accurate, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir. Hermione taught me some tricks this year to improve my note-taking. Madam Trelawney was dictating some… er… things to me and I just wrote down everything she said."

Dumbledore glanced at the notes again, smiling amusedly at the words above the apparent prophecy. "I see that, Mr. Potter. It appears you are once again going to meet your death in a most gruesome manner."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it, sir. But that other stuff… It wasn't her normal voice. It was… disturbing."

"Yes, I imagine so." He looked up at the three students. "Is it safe to assume you have not mentioned this to anyone else?"

"No, sir," they chorused.

"Good. I would ask you to keep it that way. The last thing we need, at this point, is Voldemort getting word of this."

"Does this mean you're not telling Snape, sir?"

Dumbledore frowned. "_Professor Snape_, Harry, will be informed of whatever I deem necessary to tell him. But no, I do not believe Severus needs this burden of knowledge at this time."

Harry tried to hide his relief, but doubted the he fooled headmaster. "Sorry, sir."

"Perhaps the three of you might be better served returning to Gryffindor Tower. I understand your professors have been assigning a rather… significant amount of homework to be completed before the holidays." The old wizard was smiling again, radiating the friendly aura they were used to. "Go on. I will keep you informed." His eyes twinkled. "Ten points to Gryffindor for bringing this to my attention."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione shooed the two boys out of Dumbledore's office, unwilling to risk the headmaster's wrath. She knew he was not pleased with their continued distrust of Snape and the last thing she wanted was for them to have further opportunity to lose points.

Upon their return to Gryffindor, Hermione insisted they spend the rest of the evening in study, to the boys' dismay. Every time one of them tried to hint they were ready to quit, one stern look from her was enough to motivate them to further efforts. Ron, really, was the only one giving her trouble. Ever since Harry decided he wanted to keep the option of becoming an Auror open, he had been working harder than ever to get his grades up and learn the material well. If they kept to her schedule, neither boy would be doing any late-night cramming for the end of semester tests.

While they studied, Ron covertly observed the brown-haired girl, lost in thoughts of his current relationship with her. How did things go so horribly wrong, he wondered. Everyone always said he and Hermione belonged together. Even his mother thought they would make a great couple. So why was it that Hermione Granger, the one woman he ever loved, was head over heels in love with Harry Potter? He quietly snorted. That was easy. Despite her protestations, Hermione was still a girl and what did girls appreciate more than the interest of a handsome, popular, wealthy man destined to save humanity?

Bugger. He never had a chance. Hermione focused on Harry from the instant she met them on the train five years ago. While he was unsuccessfully trying to change that bloody rat yellow, Harry Potter was garnering the sympathy of a young and star-struck Muggle-born witch with his poor clothes and broken glasses. Had he been sitting there with crack in his spectacles, she would have thought him an idiot. With Harry, it was completely different. He glared at Harry. Ron was tired of being last. The youngest Weasley male. The sidekick. The one who always got into stupid situations. Last year he had the chance to prove himself at the Ministry of Magic and maybe, just maybe impress the girl he loved. Instead, he wound up having to be saved by Harry Bloody Potter after his own stupid actions. Hermione was severely injured and he was not even there to help Harry protect her.

What was so special about Harry Potter anyway? He had one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time after him. He was moody, brooding, and extremely selfish about nearly every aspect of his life. For five years he ignored the fact that his female best friend was female, and even after he figured it out, he spent his time chasing after Cho Chang, one of the most beautiful girls in school. He was no more studious than Ron and had a similar appreciation for Quidditch, which annoyed Hermione greatly. His own relatives hated him (through no fault of his own, admittedly), and he had few truly loyal friends. The only thing going for him was his wealth, fame, and good looks. Okay, so that was a lot. And he was an incredible Quidditch player. However, Hermione never cared about that before. How could she choose Ron over Harry when they both shared many of the same interests? The only guys with Hermione's bookish ways were Ravenclaws and she never gave them the time of day. It had to be his fame. And wealth. The two things Ron would never have.

He sighed. Who would have expected that Hermione was just as shallow as the rest of the girls in the world? She wanted fame, fortune, and someone to share it with. Just like him. Why could she not see how good they could be together? It would be a passionate relationship filled with arguments, yes, but making-up as well. He was used to her bossing him around so it would not take much to extend it to his personal life. His parents had a great marriage with lots of kids and look at them. His mother was the epitome of bossiness. She told her husband what to do, but it was because she loved him. Ron really wanted that.

He wanted someone who looked at him the way Hermione looked at Harry. Not that she ever would. He sighed. He really needed to find a way to get over her. This conflict between them was affecting their friendship, which he valued more than anything. Besides, she was not the only girl at Hogwarts. He loved her, sure, but there were many who were far more friendly, beautiful, and fun. Maybe it was time for him to go find himself a girlfriend. He nearly jumped with glee. Maybe that was it. That was how he could get her to notice the attraction between them. If he found someone else, then she might come to realize how much she loved him and not Harry. He smiled. Yes. She would be jealous and then he could valiantly come back to her despite her error in judgment. That could work. And then Harry would figure out he loved Ginny and they could all be one happy Weasley family. Perfect.

Satisfied he had a plan, Ron politely excused himself and went upstairs to consider who would be the first lucky lady. By the time Harry came up to bed, the red haired boy was asleep, dreaming of the wonderful future he had ahead of him.

The next day, Harry woke up to the odd sight of an already conscious Ron Weasley. His friend was already dressed, standing in front of the mirror meticulously combing his hair.

"Ron?" he asked groggily. "What's going on?"

Ron flashed his friend a grin. "Just getting ready to go down to breakfast, Harry. You should get moving if you're going to make it down in time."

Still confused, Harry glanced at the clock, immediately leaping out of bed at the time. "Ron! Why did you let me sleep so late?"

"Sorry, Harry. I was getting ready and lost track of time. I'll save you a plate, mate. You should hurry, though. Dean's going through a growth spurt and is probably downstairs eating his weight in food right now."

Harry gave Ron a cursory nod and headed into the bathroom. Maybe he would feel a bit more conscious after his shower. A short time later, Harry was ready to go downstairs and face the day. Ron was already long gone, but Harry hoped Hermione, at least, had waited for him. He wanted to speak with her about her plans for the Yule ball.

"Morning, Harry," greeted Hermione, her amber eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I was thinking there are some books in the library we could take a look at today. I know Hemerson's History of the Founders is there… the unabridged version, and I think Madam Prince mentioned that Hogwarts had a copy of Iryna Ardenford's book, A Thousand Years of History. I think we might be able to find out more about the link between Merlin and the Founders in there, plus some information on how they structured the Wizarding world back then…"

Harry quietly listened as he and his best friend walked to the Great Hall, hand in hand. He could not help but think of how beautiful she was when she was expounding on some intellectual pursuit, and how she nearly danced with joy at the prospect of serious research. School really was quite simple for her, he knew, and only when they were trying to solve the problems of the world was she actually challenged. If anyone could find the meaning of this prophesy, it would be Hermione. He smiled. His Hermione.

The two Gryffindors entered the Great Hall and headed to their table. Harry continued to pay attention to Hermione as she outlined her research plans, completely missing the fact that his other best friend was currently sitting mere inches from Lavender Brown, feeding her breakfast.

"… and I think we may be able to find some advice on how to interpret things," she eyed him significantly, "and maybe gain some insight on hidden meanings."

Harry nodded distractedly, thinking that Hermione was looking particularly beautiful today. She had done something with her hair to tame it into soft curls, which were pulled away from her face to fall down her back. Even the school uniform could not detract from her beauty, something that Harry was learning to admire more and more.

"Oy! Harry! You gonna eat that, mate?" Ron gazed covetously at the generous helping of seasoned potatoes on his best friend's plate. The dark-haired wizard was ignoring the food in favor of his beloved – a fact that almost offended both Weasleys.

Hermione gasped. "Oh! Harry. You need to eat something. We have a test today in Professor Snape's class and you need to keep your wits about you if you're going to pass." She slapped Ron's seeking hand away and deftly placed two slices of ham on Harry's plate, giving him an encouraging smile. "Eat something, love," she whispered.

Her words registered almost immediately, snapping him out of his captivated trance. Tossing a quick smile her way, he dug in, ignoring Ron's frustrated grumble.

"Sorry, Ron."

"'sokay, Harry. I probably should take some time before class to… er… study my notes." He turned to the pretty girl at his side. "Care to join me, Lav?"

Lavender giggled as she allowed Ron to help her up. "Of course, Ron. I'd _love_ to study with you!" The two left the hall hand in hand, prompting a number of curious and bewildered looks to pass between the Gryffindors. Ron? Lavender? Study?

Parvati smiled sweetly at Hermione. "Well. I guess you better hope things work out between you and Harry," she whispered to a startled Hermione. "It looks like you no longer have a sure thing to count on, eh Hermione?"

The brown haired girl turned to stare at the gossipy Gryffindor. "What?"

"Well, it appears Ron has finally gotten a clue and moved on. I guess you won't be able to count of having him there as a safety net anymore, right?"

Hermione's face flushed scarlet. "Not that it's any of your business, Parvati, but I am hardly in need of a safety net."

Parvati looked pointedly to Harry, who was speaking quietly to Ginny. "I can see that."

The bushy haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Parvati!" she hissed. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" Sick and tired of the sly looks and innuendo she kept suffering at the hands of the petty girl; Hermione rose, grabbing her book bag. "I'll be in the Library," she announced before storming out of the Great Hall.

Harry looked up, wondering what was something wrong, and then shrugged. She must still be upset about the rumours. Hermione would tell him if it was something else. Right now, he and Ginny had some plotting to do if they were going to win the next Quidditch match. Ravenclaw had gotten better since last year and Cho Chang was actually shaping up to be a true threat. Glancing over at their table, he noticed the Seeker eying him smugly, as if somehow she had already won the game. _What the hell is that all about_, he wondered.

"I think Ron is doing a lot better as Keeper, but his ego's still so fragile… Harry. Are you listening to me?" Ginny regarded the older student, irritated. It was bad enough her brother never listened to her. If Harry was going to start… Well, he did not want to find out how she would react. "Harry!"

His head whipped around. "What?"

"I _said_, we need to do something about Ron's confidence issues."

Harry shrugged. "I'd suggest stop humiliating him during practice. I know Warren seems to like the entire one on one practice with the team Keeper thing, but you're far too good to go up against. I'd suggest alternating between you, and Valerie. That way he might stand a chance, occasionally."

She chuckled. "Good point. I'll mention that to Warren tonight." Ginny turned back to her food while Harry glanced around the table.

"Hey, where's Hermione?"

"Not keeping terribly good track of your girlfriend, are you Harry?" He was startled by the maliciousness in Parvati's tone.

"What?"

"You'd think that if you two were so incredibly in loooove, that you'd notice when she left the hall."

"I did notice. "Harry's eyes narrowed. "What did you say to her, Parvati?"

She batted her eyes innocently. "Nothing but the truth, Harry."

He stood abruptly, startling the Great Hall into silence. Glancing around at the curious faces, Harry prayed no one would say anything. Without another word, he headed to the Library, where he knew Hermione would have gone to begin her research. Behind him, Ginny smiled sweetly at Parvati. "Perhaps you and I should have a bit of a chat about how you've been treating my best friend…"

Hermione was where he expected, nose buried in a ponderous tome of obvious antiquity. Sunlight streamed in from a nearby window, lighting the dust swirling about her head into a fiery halo. By Merlin, she was beautiful.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Harry," she said, looking up, a brilliant smile lighting her features. "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to see if you were okay. Parvati seemed to be in bitch-mode today." He sat down and took her hand. "So are you okay?"

Her smile, if possible, grew wider. "I'm fine, Harry. I just wanted to get some reading in."

He continued to eye her questioningly.

She sighed. "Okay, and I was tired of Parvati's innuendo and Cho Chang's glares. Happy?"

With a gently kiss to her fingertips, he shook his head. "Not yet, but give me a couple years."

She blushed. "Harry!"

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. It's my fault. Parvati's just…"

"I think you hit the nail on the head the first time, Harry. A bitch."

Harry gazed at her in shock. Hermione never swore!

She huffed in annoyance. "Don't give me that look, Harry Potter. You know perfectly well that I know how to swear. Thanks mainly to you and Ron, I might add!"

He smirked. "And the twins. Don't forget your birthday gift two years ago."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How could I forget? I thought Professor McGonagall was going to have a fit when that book started swearing at me. Really. Like I need a book to teach me how to use vulgar language."

Harry shrugged. "It was probably better than what they originally planned. I seem to remember George saying something about your clothes and invisibility."

She shuddered. "Ugh. I don't want to think about it."

Feeling mischievous, Harry gave her a smirk, leering at her robed figure. "I do."

Hermione flushed, and then slapped at her grinning friend. "Harry!"

He shrugged. "What can I say, 'Mione? I find you incredibly attractive. And I'm a hormonal teen. Who would you rather I be lusting after?"

"Good point." She eyed him curiously. "So what did Parvati have to say?"

"More of the same. I think she's hacked off that she lost credibility with the other students after the fiasco yesterday."

"Not to mention the betting pool."

Harry was startled. "The what?"

"Betting pool. Dean started it the end of our second year. He and Justin got into an argument about you hugging me and it just escalated from there."

"How come I didn't know about this?"

She shrugged. "I suspect it has something to do with your virtually militant indifference to rumours about you. That and no one was going to tell you."

"But why…"

"I thought you already knew."

"So who won?"

"No one, yet. The pool's still open until you and I openly acknowledge a formal relationship between us."

"Well I'll be damned."

The library clock chimed, warning them class was to begin soon. The two Gryffindors quickly gathered the books and returned them to Madam Prince. On their way to class, Harry could hear Hermione muttering ingredients under her breath.

Ron was waiting for them when they arrived, but he was not in his normal seat. He and Valerie Hart had traded places and now Harry was sharing a cauldron with one of the few females in the school that did not drool over him. It was actually a bit of a relief.

The doors slammed open and Snape stormed in, eyes raking over the class as he strode by. "Weasley! Get back to your seat! And twenty points from Gryffindor for rearranging my seating chart." He smirked evilly. "I'm sure you and your girlfriend will have plenty of time later to play footsie. I suggest Trelawney's class."

Lavender gave an offended gasp.

"Another twenty points." The Potions master's dark eyes swept the room. "No disrupting my classroom! Now. I do hope you are all prepared for today's quiz," he said maliciously, eying the students in disdain. "It will be a bit… challenging. But I imagine some of you," his gaze fell on Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, "will probably find it routine. Which is why you will be working with a partner."

Snape quickly rearranged the class, placing Hermione with Neville ("Miss Granger, you'll be happy to know that you may legitimately help him for this."), and Ginny with Draco ("I trust we can all get along, Miss Weasley."). He never noticed her blush. Harry was stuck with Parvati, and Ron was paired with Pansy Parkinson. Needless to say, they all knew this was a recipe for disaster.

The first few minutes of class were peaceful. The students gathered their ingredients, following the instructions on the chalk board, and began preparing them for the potion. Hermione did as much as she possibly could, whispering directions to Neville when she was forced to ask for his help. Harry spent the entire quiz trying to do the potion himself while Parvati made snide comments about Hermione, and Ron was treated to an entire class of being called "blood traitor" instead of a mere moment in the hall. The only students, really, that had any positive experience as a result of this experiment, were Ginny and Draco.

Ginny fought to keep from blushing as Draco brushed past her. Sometimes it was easy to forget how attractive he was when he behaved like such a prat. This was not one of those times. He was flirting, subtly, making suggestive comments as part of their conversation about the potion.

"Surely you prefer your roots slightly larger than that, Ginevra," he commented slyly.

She flushed. "It's not the size of the root, Malfoy, it's how it's sliced." He winced as she chopped it in half. "Sometimes, it's better to have a… more proportionate ingredient."

That little minx. Careful to make sure no one was watching, he moved closer. "Proportion is nothing if one is not skilled." He breathed softly into her hear.

It was all Ginny could do not to sigh and rub herself against the teasing young man behind her. He was not going to win this one. "Skill is in the eye of the beholder. I suspect a master of Potions would have far different standards than, say, a student."

"True. Natural talent combined with skill makes for a very powerful experience," he breathed. "Would you like that, Ginevra?"

She batted her eyes guilelessly. "Why yes, Malfoy. I'd love to see your… slicing talents." She handed him the knife.

He took it with a smirk and then began deftly slicing the dragonsroot. He had almost finished preparing the ingredients when the first explosion occurred in the lab.

"MR. FINNEGAN!" Snape was across the room in an instant. "In what realm of reality could you possibly think that chewing gum is an appropriate item to bring to Potions class? Fifty points from Gryffindor," he roared. Vincent Crabbe backed away meekly, hoping to avoid the enraged professor's gaze. "Detention! Both of you! Two weeks with Filch." He whirled to face the rest of the class. "BACK TO WORK!"

The rest of the class passed surprisingly well, and despite several near catastrophic mistakes on Neville's part, Hermione still managed to turn in a perfect potion, along with Ginny and Draco, and Julian and Blaise. Harry had resorted to commanding Parvati to shut up and work, so their potion was not too badly made either. The rest of the class did a satisfactory job, except Seamus and Crabbe, of course, and Ron and Pansy, who spent the whole class arguing over blood relations and who should do the menial work. All in all, it went far better than Severus expected.

Later that evening, Harry and Hermione sat in the library, poring over book after book, looking for information that would help them decipher the prophecy. They had every book on the Founders sitting on the table, and each of them had skimmed nearly half of them, looking for anything. Finally, Harry decided enough was enough.

"Cor! That's it, 'Mione. We need to do something different. We're not going to find anything this way."

"We need to eliminate the ordinary, Harry…"

"'Mione, what about all this makes you think there is anything ordinary involved? We need to do our research elsewhere."

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide. "Are you…"

"Yes. Look, remember where we've gone to find all the other information we've needed before in the past. We can't spend the rest of the year looking through every book in the library when we haven't even had glanced at the Restricted section. Do you honestly think we're going to find anything useful on the public shelves of the library?"

She shook her head. "No, Harry, you have a point." Her face broke in to a mischievous grin. "I guess this means you're going to break out the old invisibility cloak, eh?"

Enraptured for a moment by the beauty of Hermione's smile, Harry was silent. "Oh! Sorry. Er… yes. I'll just … uh… get the cloak back from Ginny."

Hermione's amused eyes met his. "You do that. Meanwhile, I'm going to look at the Libellus Book Directory to see what books we might be interested in. It should even list books that are considered restricted."

"Handy, that."

"I thought so, yes. Go on, Harry." Hermione's eyes widened as Harry lunged for her and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Love you," he whispered before dashing out the door.

Suddenly, the day no longer seemed so unbearable.

While Harry and Hermione plotted to figure out the key to Trelawney's latest prophecy, Draco Malfoy was deliberating over the future of his relationship with his secret pen pal. He took it as an encouraging sign that Ginny Weasley had neither hexed nor insulted him during class today. She was even flirtatious, which thrilled him to no end. Now he just had to find out exactly where she wanted things to go. He was not hugely concerned – there were several months left to the Spring Ball after all – but he was hoping she would make things easier on her. He refused to admit there was another reason for his desire to hear from her.

The silver haired Slytherin was sitting in his room staring into space. For the first time in his life he was out of control of a situation. He did not like it. He knew that everything hinged on Ginny's ability to look past her prejudice against him and his family, and choose to give him a chance despite it all. Draco knew she was a fundamentally kind and caring girl, but he also knew that he had spent the past five years making her life hell with his attitude. He hoped today illustrated to her how different he was from the boy that used to mock her and her friends.

Aside from his flirtatious teasing of Ginny, the Slytherin prefect really had no desire to mock anyone any more. Except maybe Thanos. And Potter. But more often than not he was just tired of the crap. After talking with Ginny for all this time, he actually had found himself wanting a friend. Crabbe and Goyle were not friends. They were minions. Now they were not even that, having changed their allegiance to Acheron. He sighed. He had no idea what to do. What if Ginny refused to have anything to do with him? What if she showed Potter and her friends the letters? Draco beat himself up mentally for getting emotionally involved. This was supposed to be a simple project: persuade Ginny Weasley to go to the Spring Ball with him. Unfortunately, Ginny was a proud girl and would not tarnish her image for his benefit. No matter how much he paid. He was willing to pay of her parents' debts if she agreed to it. It would be worth it to put that peacock in his place and get some peace from his blasted mother.

But knowing how Ginny was, Draco realized she would have to genuinely like him to want to help him in such a manner. He secretly admitted that he enjoyed having a friend that was not trying to use him. His father always told him that everyone had their price, and they were always looking for something to give them a leg up. Draco was not so sure anymore. The Weasleys certainly did not seem to have that type of attitude. Ginny's letters made it quite plain they were happy with their lives just the way they were. He liked the idea of having Ginny as his friend for other reasons as well. She had a penetrating mind, was incredibly snide when she wanted to be, and was passionate, friendly, and independent. It sometimes disturbed him how protective he felt of her. He ruefully admitted that he set out to trap her, but she managed to turn the tables without even trying. He was afraid to explore his feelings for her any deeper. He knew that even if he wanted to get together with her, it was impossible. His father would have them both killed. He could not do that to her.

_Blast_, he thought. _I really like the girl._ He mentally slapped himself_. What the bloody hell am I thinking? She's a Weasley! Yes_, said the voice in his mind, _but she's also the most extraordinary girl you've ever met. Compare her to all the other girls you've dated._ Draco smirked. Not a single one of them could hold a candle to Ginny Weasley. She would blow them away with the sheer force of her personality alone. Compared to her, they were flat, faceless sketches of women. He could actually almost like the idea of spending his life with her.

Draco's eyes widened, and he shook himself mentally, freaking out. _ Bollocks! I can't have just thought that! _Taking command of himself, he chalked it up to the desire to be with someone, anyone, but Pansy. _Yeah, that's it. I don't necessarily want to be with Ginny, I just don't want to be with Pansy_. He stood up. _ I need to get some fresh air. _ Draco jumped as an owl flew in his window. He recognized it as Icarus. _Bloody hell_, he thought. _Do I even want to know?_

Hands shaking, he gently took the letter from his owl and went over to his chair. He sat down heavily, dreading what was in the packet he held. Taking a deep breath, he opened the envelope and took out the letter.

_Draco,_

_This letter is not easy for me to write, so bear with me if I ramble. I decided to just sit down and write to give you a more honest idea of what I'm thinking. I'll freely admit I'm confused. On one hand, I like the idea of being your friend and continuing to talk with you. Today showed me that there is definitely something there that I could very easily come to enjoy. But on the other hand, I simply can't bring myself to completely trust you. My instincts tell me that there is more to this situation that you have revealed to me. I hope I'm wrong, but your track record implies I'm not. This has nothing to do with your family name, Draco, but with the way you have behaved for five years. I want to trust you, but I don't think I can._

_However, Professor Spellsinger says that we need to give people chances to prove themselves. How can we expect someone to want to change or to stay changed if they are always going to be thought of as the way they were? That is why I am willing to do this: let's keep writing for a while. I told you I wanted to get to know the person behind the letters. I wasn't kidding. If you are truly the person that you seem to be, then you have either changed a great deal, or have played for your father and everyone else very well for several years. Whatever the case, I feel I must give you a chance._

_But I do not want you to think that this means I trust you. I have told Professor Spellsinger all about us, and will continue to keep her updated. If this is just a gambit to use me to get to Harry or some Death Eater initiation thing, then back off now, because she will be watching._

_I hope you prove me wrong. I hope you really are the person in the letters and not the person that mocked me on my way to class during the past few years. I don't expect you to change for me, Draco. I expect you to be who you are. Either I can accept it or I can't. Be who you want to be. It's your life._

_Ginny_

Draco sat back in his chair, feeling guilty. He was using her to get his House back. Somehow, she suspected he was not being entirely honest with her. If this was going to work, he needed to make sure she never finds out about the bet. As a matter of fact, he would prefer she never find out. For the first time he actually considered the possibility of continuing their relationship beyond the Spring Ball. _What am I thinking_, he wondered. _She's a Weasley, I'm a Malfoy and never the twain shall meet_. He suddenly thought back to Romeo and Juliet, thinking that this was way too much of that type of situation. He had to give Ginny credit, though. She went to one of the few people at Hogwarts that would be able to protect Ginny without reacting irrationally. His spine crawled at the thought of what his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would do if she found out he was just using Ginny. He never would have thought of it. Even he had confided in the Gypsy teacher. People all over the school seemed to have a confidence in her ability to help them and/or provide a sympathetic ear. Somehow he doubted she would be very sympathetic to him. He wondered how Snape would react. _Yeah, right. He'd probably go running off to tell father that I'm sullying myself with a Weasley. I'd have to make up something else about using her to get to Potter._

Draco sighed. Now was the time to tell her about the bet and hope she understood. She would be angry, but he hoped she would still give him a chance. He pulled out a piece of paper and began to write. Several sentences in, he balled up the paper and threw it in the fire. _ I can't do this. This is just for a bet. Malfoys do not date Weasleys_. He pushed all feeling for her aside, and strengthened his will. He and Pansy would be married one day and he was not going to jeopardize it for a meaningless relationship with the bottom of the pureblood barrel. She was a means to an end. That's all.

Taking out another piece of paper, he began to write again, having almost convinced himself of that thought.

Later that evening, Hermione returned to Gryffindor just before curfew and was surprised to see Harry sitting on the plush couch next to the fire, glowering. Ron was nowhere to be found, and the common room was deserted except for them. Harry's expression immediately lightened upon sighting her, and he got up to greet her with a light peck on the lips

She looked at him curiously. "Where's Ron?"

Harry frowned. "Snogging Lavender, probably. He basically told me to bugger off and take care of my 'midnight misadventure' myself."

"That's odd. Usually he's the one raring to go out and stalk about the school against the rules."

"True, but I think his recent association with Lavender has changed his priorities. Ron's thinking with is hormones now, Hermione."

She snickered. "And this is a change how?"

"Funny." He pulled out his father's Invisibility Cloak. "Well, let's get going. We don't have all night. Professor Sinistra is on patrol tonight, and I'm betting she'll be spending most of her time near the Runes classrooms." He winked. "Apparently Professor Futhark is going to be working on a translation tonight."

Hermione cast a Silencing Charm on them before they stepped through the portrait hole. The biggest weakness of the cloak was that it did not muffle sounds. Despite all their experiences sneaking around the school, there was still a large element of risk involved with what they were about to do. She had no desire to risk her Prefect status over this.

The trip to the library was surprisingly uneventful. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that Professor Spellsinger was in the Potions lab with Professor Snape tonight, so neither of them were roaming the halls. She thought she heard a giggle coming from one of the classrooms, but now was not the time to start enforcing the rules. Whoever was in there could go about their activities in peace, tonight.

"Okay, here we are. What are we looking for," asked Harry as he pulled the silvery fabric off them.

She handed him a list. "Search for these. The one at the top of the list is the one I really want to look at, but I'll be surprised if they have that book out where it can be accessed by anyone outside the headmaster."

"The Founders' Secrets?"

"According to the Libellus, that book was written by the Founders themselves, and detailed nearly everything about the creation and enchantment of Hogwarts. If there's anything about the prophecy, it should be in the annotated version by Regis Rembiltious." She lifted her softly glowing wand to study the shelves. "It's a green book with gold lettering."

"The annotated one?"

Hermione's nodded her head, causing her loose curls to cast odd shadows in the dim light. Harry found that his fingers itched to smooth them back into place, but now was not the time for indulgence. He turned his attention to the shelf before him.

An hour and a half later, neither of them had found what they were looking for. Hermione managed to locate a few of the books she had listed as "marginally helpful," but nothing in detail on the Founders or the prophecy. Harry threw himself into a chair, frustrated.

"This isn't working, 'Mione. There's nothing here. We can't stay here all night!"

"Well what do you suggest, Harry? The books are spelled against summoning and half of them have been enchanted so they can't leave the library." She frowned at his impatient scowl. "Look, why don't you keep looking while I copy down the information in these books. After I get that finished, we can call it a night and then come back tomorrow."

Harry looked at her like she was mad. "Are you kidding? You? Miss Prefect suggesting that we break the rules another night in a row to come search the Restricted Section? By Merlin, we should mark this day on a calendar!"

Hermione swatted at him. "It's important, Harry! Far more so than I think you realize." She took his hand. "This may hold the key to defeating Voldemort for all time, Harry. I think that's far more important that some school rules."

Brown eyes met green, and Harry found himself ensnared by her thoughts. She was worried about him above all, but behind that was love, friendship, and a determination to succeed. He could see her fears for him and their friends, and her sadness at the distance between them. The conviction she felt that their cause was right shone in her mind like a beacon, and attached to it was a fierce resolve that she would find a way to keep him safe. Drawn in by her thoughts are her gaze, Harry stepped forward and gently kissed her. The passion she felt at that small contact nearly overwhelmed him, and for the first time he began to understand the depth of her feelings for him. He gazed at her in wonder.

""Mione…" he began.

The two students started as they heard voices approaching the door to the library. Quickly extinguishing their wands, they haphazardly replaced the books on the shelves, knowing they would automatically be returned to their proper locations, and then dived behind one of the rear bookcases. Hermione stifled a sneeze at the dust.

"…don't think that rose hips will be a sufficient substitution, Ryselle." Harry almost groaned at the approach of the greasy git. Bloody wonderful.

"Orchid hearts are not so different, Severus. They are both used quite successfully in Memory Enhancement potions, and should do quite well to enhance a wizard's mental acuity."

Snape snorted. "I still think this idea of yours is foolish in the extreme. What makes you think Potter will be even remotely prepared to utilize such a tool?" His silky voice grew derisive. "Surely even you can't believe his mental deficiencies can be corrected with a potion? Miss Granger would be a far better choice for this enhancement."

The defense teacher sighed. "Both of them will be able to take advantage of this, Severus. The potion will be given to those who will make the best use of it."

"And you think Potter is one of those people," the Potions master asked incredulously. "You're mad."

"Severus. We cannot risk Vold… sorry… the Dark Lord gaining access to certain minds. Harry, Hermione, and Ron are most certainly first on the list."

"I thought precious Potter was doing well with Occlumency."

"He is. But is it not better to be safe than sorry?"

Another derisive snort. "If you say so. I personally would be tempted to give the Weasley boy a double dose. Maybe then he might be able to use his wand correctly."

Harry motioned to Hermione to move farther back as the two professors entered the Restricted Section. Snape's wand glowed brightly, illuminating his pale face in what Harry thought was far too horrifying of a reality. Even Hermione let out a short squeak of terror.

"What are we looking for again?"

Harry's ears perked up at that. He was curious too. What exactly were they working on?

"Potions of the Ages, by Nicolas Flamel…"

"I'm familiar with the book, Ryselle," Snape interrupted. "How is it going to help you with this?"

Professor Spellsinger sighed impatiently. "There is a list of ingredient substitutions in the back. I need to look at an original copy for one in specific."

Silence was Snape's only response.

"The Basilisk blood. We need to find something that will work just as well. I think a mixture of ground dragon egg and ashwinder scales in a harpy's blood base should do it. But I am not sure."

Harry held his breath as the teachers passed their hiding space. He saw Snape shake his head. "I agree with the ashwinder scales and harpy's blood, but if you add ground dragon egg to that, we will be cleaning your remains off the walls of my lab. I would honestly suggest dragon's blood. It is one of the uses, after all. As a potions' base."

"And this is why I need your help, Severus. You know far more about Potions than I ever will." She stopped and turned to look him in the eye. "Please help me," she said softly. "This is very important and I cannot do it without you."

Snape's hand twitched, as if he was fighting the urge to touch her. He unconsciously moved toward her. "I…" He sighed. "Why can I never say no to you?"

She smiled. "Because you do not wish to?"

"Perhaps," he murmured, leaning forward. Harry thought the dark wizard was going to kiss Professor Spellsinger, but suddenly, he straightened. "I will aid you, Ryselle. But only if you agree that I get the final decision of who gets the potion."

"As long as it includes Harry, Hermione, and Ron, I agree."

The professors stared at each other for a moment, and then Snape abruptly nodded. "Agreed." Harry and Hermione waited quietly for another fifteen minutes while the professors located several Potions texts. Snape scribbled a note for Madam Prince informing her of the books they were taking, and finally the witch and wizard left the library.

"Wew," said Harry. "I thought they were never going to leave." He pushed himself up off the floor and carefully crawled out from behind the bookshelf. Stretching the kinks out of his back, he turned to offer Hermione his hand only to see she was nowhere in sight. He panicked. "'Mione?" She was right behind him when they were hiding from the professors, so she could not have gotten past him without him knowing. Harry squeezed back behind the tall shelf.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "Where are you?" Moving back further, he held up his lit wand to examine the tight space. There was really no where she could have gone to escape, he noticed. This bookshelf was built into the corner, so the far end of it was flush against the wall. Maybe a foot and a half of clearance existed between the shelf and the wall, making it difficult to freely move. For the first time in his life Harry was glad the Dursleys did not feed him well. Looking down, he could see scuff marks in the dust, but they abruptly ended about halfway down the shelf. There must be a secret door here, he thought.

"'Mione," he whispered urgently. "Can you hear me?" He thought he heard the faint sound of a girl's voice coming from behind the wall. "Hermione, if you can hear me, I'm looking for the way to get you out of there. I'm going to search for the secret door, but if I can't find it, I'm going to get a professor. Hang tight, love. I'll find you."

His questing hands skated over the cool stones of the castle, seeking a way, any way to open the hidden door he was convinced was there. He found it by mere chance, the same way he imagined his girlfriend did. Harry's wand tapped a brick halfway up the wall. Before he could react, a door silently slid open and he found himself staring at an astonished Hermione. She threw herself into his arms.

"Oh Harry! I thought I was never going to get out of there! It's amazing, but it was only me and no one knew where I was and I didn't know where I was and I was afraid you were going to go get a professor, which would have been the right thing to do, but then we would have lost the opportunity to look at everything…"

He silenced her with a kiss. "Slow down, love. What do you mean?"

Hermione turned back to the room. "_Lumos_!" Small pinpoints of light began to glow around the room, illuminating the small area with a soft radiance. Books upon books were crammed into shelves on every wall, stretching from floor to ceiling. A small desk with two chairs sat at the center of the room, upon which were two reading stands, two pots of ink, and two golden quills.

"Bloody hell," he breathed.

"It has everything we should have been looking for, Harry. Information on the Founders, the construction of Hogwarts, the magic they used… it's all here."

"Wha… what about the Founders' Prophecy?"

"That was made long after this room was hidden. There's nothing about it here, but I'm not sure we need it. I wanted to look up information on the Founders' powers, what they did to build Hogwarts, anything that might help us when the time comes to fight Voldemort." Her face lit up. "There are even several books of Charms, defensive and offensive spells, and potions."

"Snape will love that," he muttered.

"We need to study everything we can, Harry, before we tell the headmaster about this room."

"What makes you think he doesn't know?"

Hermione eyed him skeptically. "Do you honestly think Headmaster Dumbledore would leave all this stuff accessible to the students, even if only by accident?"

"Good point." He thought for a moment. "Wait a minute. What do you mean 'tell the headmaster'? He'll expel us for this, 'Mione!"

"I don't think so, but you do have a good point. He's probably not going to be too thrilled that we have been searching for information on the Founders."

"We can tell him after all this is over."

She shook her head. "We should tell someone else. A teacher. An adult, at the very least."

"Lupin?"

"Do you think he'll keep this from the headmaster?"

Harry shrugged. "He was a Maurader."

"Yes, but he doesn't have free access to the castle. He would have to come here with Headmaster Dumbledore's permission."

"True. We can't tell Snape, either."

"No. Definitely not." Hermione lost herself in thought for a moment. "How about Professor Spellsinger? She's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, so you could kind of say that protecting the school is part of her job description."

"That's stretching it, 'Mione."

"Well, she's really understanding," she retorted defensively. "We're not going to get into trouble if we tell her about this. And if we do, it shouldn't be too unpleasant."

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Professor Spellsinger was his last link to Sirius besides Lupin. He trusted her, and knew she would do everything in her power to protect him. His only concern was her loyalty to the headmaster. Not that he distrusted Dumbledore, but the man had a terrible habit of trying to hide things from him. Like this prophecy. Harry had actually expected the old wizard to help them out with it. Instead, he dismissed them and had seemed completely unconcerned about a foretelling that might hold the key to Voldemort's defeat.

He nodded slowly. "I think you're right. We should tell her, but we should take care of our research first."

"We'll have to spend some serious time here, but I imagine we can have everything we need within a week."

"Good." Harry looked around the room and was struck with worry that someone might find it. "I wish there was some way we could hide it."

Hermione smiled. "There is." She pulled a thick tome off the shelf and turned it to a page near the center of the book. "Here. Read this."

Harry quickly scanned the text.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the home to a sentient entity who agreed, with a blood bond, to serve the interests of the school and to protect it and the students the best it could. Rowena was the one who contacted the Sidhe and worked out an agreement that would give us the ability to bestow sentience on the key stone of the school. Hogwarts possesses the intellect of a house elf, without the integrated compulsions. Its purpose is to uphold the dictates of its binding._

_Godric will be responsible for teaching Hogwarts, as he is the only true telepath among us. Salazarr is not happy with this state of events, but as he is only a Parselmouth, he has no choice but to agree. Once the bindings are in place, we will empower the entity and the castle with our gifts, and then the wards will be created and tied to the key stone._

He looked at Hermione and stammered, "Wha… what makes you think there's anything I can do about this?"

The bushy haired girl frowned, and then marched over to point at the word "telepath". "I wonder, Harry. What could it possibly be?"

Harry noticed his girlfriend's temper growing, and realized the time for obfuscation was over. At least with her. Hermione was not the smartest witch of her generation for nothing. Somehow, she figured it out and was quite obviously angry with him for hiding it. He held up his hands. "Okay. Okay. I get your point. I'm sorry, 'Mione." He grabbed her hand. "They told me I couldn't tell anyone. Not even you and Ron."

She frowned. "That never stopped you before."

"And I had planned on telling you when everything was finished. I just… wanted to get through my training with the headmaster before I told you. That way he couldn't just pull it from my mind."

"So is it finished?"

"My training?" She nodded. "I have one more session to go. My final test, so to speak. If I can keep Dumbledore out of my head for the entirety of the session, then my training is finished and I can have my evenings back again."

"What about using your abilities?"

He shrugged. "That was the easy part. The difficult part is keeping others out and stopping myself from accidentally influencing other people."

"Like Ron."

"Yeah. Like Ron." He stood up. "We should go."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. Ron might freak out if you're not all cozy in your bed when he gets back to Gryffindor."

Harry was startled by the sharpness in her voice. He quickly pulled her into his arms. "Maybe," he said softly, "but we have something to take care of first." He captured her lips in a tender kiss, which grew deeper and more passionate by the second. The reasons for them to be apart retreated into the background until it was only them and their desires. Neither student had any idea how long they stood there in each other arms, but it was with great reluctance that they finally parted.

Hermione gazed at him, breathless. "We… we should… get to bed, now." She flushed as a brief picture of them in bed together flashed through both their heads. "I mean…"

"We should get back to Gryffindor," he finished. "To our rooms. Alone."

"Right."

"Right."

Before they left the room, Harry reached out with his mind, careful not to draw the attention of the headmaster, and tried to contact the spirit of Hogwarts. He was surprised when it eagerly greeted him.

_Son of Light._

"Er…" Son of Light? He concentrated. _Spirit of Hogwarts._

_Greetings, in the name of the Founders._

_Greetings to you as well._

_What is your command, Son of Light?_

The formality came surprisingly easy to him. _I wish you to seal this room from all but myself and my companion. _ He pictured Hermione.

_It is done, Son of Light. You and the Daughter of Light are the only ones besides the headmaster that may access this room._

_Thank you, Spirit of Hogwarts._

_I am for your purpose, Son of Light._

The mental presence faded, leaving Harry wondering what the hell just happened. He turned to Hermione. "It's done. Only you, me, and the headmaster can access this room."

She nodded. "Good. We should go."

"Wait. One thing. It told me the answer to one of your questions about the prophecy."

Her eyes lit up with unabashed excitement. "What did it say?"

He smiled depreciatingly. "Apparently, I am the Son of Light."

"I figured that."

"And you, my darling, are the Daughter of Light."

Hermione looked surprised at that. "Interesting. I guess I should have expected that."

He grinned at her. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

He grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. "You're stuck with me."

Her eye turned soft and she saw the love in his gaze. "Good," she said quietly, "because I have no intentions of ever letting you go."

This time their kiss was far more passionate, but did not last nearly long enough. The need to return to Gryffindor Tower impinged on their minds and it was out of necessity that they closed up the room and snuck back to the common room. Another tender kiss was their only goodnight, and both students headed to bed, floating on air.

The next morning, Harry woke up to find Ron glaring despondently at the wall. He quickly removed the smile from his face, and moved over to sit next to his friend.

"What's wrong, Ron?"

It was several minutes before the red-haired boy responded. "Lavender's royally hacked off at me."

Harry was surprised. Even Hermione did not get angry with Ron that quickly. "What happened?"

Ron sighed. "I buggered things up." He looked at his best friend. "I made the mistake of telling her that she's not the most beautiful girl in school."

Personally, Harry did not see how his friend was wrong, but he knew girls were sensitive to that sort of thing. "What did you tell her?"

"I said that she wasn't the most beautiful girl in school, but that she was pretty enough for me, and that was all that mattered."

"Ouch."

"What? I told the truth!"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "Er… sometimes that's not what girls want to hear, Ron."

"Well I'm not going to lie."

_That never stopped you before_, thought Harry before he could stop himself. "I… er… can respect that, but you can't expect Lavender to be happy with a guy that thinks other girls are more beautiful than her."

"Not girls, Harry. Girl. As in one."

_Uh oh_. "Who did you tell her?" He had a good idea of where this was going.

Ron looked at Harry like he was crazy. "Hermione, of course. Who else would I say?"

Harry groaned. Of course. "Oh Ron, that was the worst thing you could say. Everyone knows you had a thing for Hermione. The last thing your girlfriend wants to hear is that you find another girl you had an interest in more attractive than her. Blimey, mate. I don't thing she's going to be willing to go out with you anymore."

"She wasn't really my girlfriend. Besides," the other boy shrugged. "There are other girls out there."

"Er… right. And I'm sure they will leap at the chance to date the man who told Lavender Brown, one of the biggest gossips in school, that she was less attractive than Hermione."

"Well it's true, isn't it?"

"Of course it is, Ron. Hermione's the most beautiful girl there is. But I don't think other women want to hear that."

"Bloody hell. They can just get over themselves!" Ron stood up. "Maybe Parvati's available."

Harry watched incredulously as his friend quickly glanced at himself in the mirror, and then left the room, whistling.

_What the hell was that?_

The next week passed uneventfully, for the most part. Ron did his level best to woo every girl in their year, starting with the Gryffindors and then moving on to Ravenclaw after Katie Bell threatened to shove his broom into a very uncomfortable place. Ginny thought it was hilarious and continued writing her "Secret Admirer", who agreed with her sentiment. He informed her that had a bet going with the rest of Slytherin House as to the Gryffindor's success rate. So far, Draco was winning.

Hermione and Harry spent several hours a night in the secret room, studying the texts there and learning more about the history of Hogwarts than they ever imagined. Harry learned how to influence the staircases by talking to the school, and was even able to make the Room of Requirement appear on command. He was careful not to change too much, since they learned that the headmaster was tied telepathically into the key stone of the school. Apparently, all headmasters either possess or receive the gift in order to hold the position.

The decision to talk with Professor Spellsinger after the holiday was made, since they were going to be away from the school and still had a small bit of research left to do. Harry was curious as to what conclusions Hermione came up with, but he knew better than to bother her about it. She would tell him when everything was ready.

In the meantime, he was having issues of his own. The dreams had gotten worse, as of late, but it was the weekend before the Yule Ball that was the worst. He thrashed about in his sleep, mumbling things Ron was thankful he could not understand. Harry tossed and turned, his scar burning and the voices making his sleep restless. He knew he should block them out, but they seemed to be on about something important. He listened carefully, making sure he was hidden from the minds in the room. There were three forms in the dim room, making impossible to identify them visually. Fortunately, they were talking. There was the hissing voice, his enemy, garbed in shadows and exhilarated about…something.

"The attack went well, I assume? Did you get the artifact?"

The whiny voice was uncertain and completely cowed by his Master. "Must we use it on the children, sir? Their parents are the ones we are at war with."

"Foolish rat! The war does not know lines between age and gender. This is our chance to rid ourselves of that bloody meddler once and for all." That was the one with silver hair and flat, emotionless eyes. He was as cold as he was ruthless, his voice that of a wintry frost.

"Now Lucius, that is no way to speak with Peter. I'm sure he understands the importance of the situation and is only trying to help."

"His tender sensibilities are more appropriate to our enemies, my Lord. Surely you can't be listening to his drivel?"

"I do not agree with it, Lucius, but I always listen. It was he, after all, that led us to the knowledge that the artifact was now in England. Do not cast his voice aside so hastily. Go on, Peter."

"Well, sir, the best way to alienate an adult is to attack a child. There are many people that are sympathetic to our cause, but if we start out the year by destroying Hogwarts, they will turn against us. Despite what you may think, Lucius, we do need other Wizards to be on our side. Our Lord does not want to rule over a Wizarding World empty of Wizards. People fight to defend children."

"The fear resulting from our attack on the school should bring them to our sides in droves, my Lord. The very knowledge that we are too ruthless to spare even children…"

"Will drive our provisional supporters into the arms of our enemies. Peter is correct. We must wait."

"Wait! But most of the brats will be gone for the holiday! If we take out Dumbledore and the teachers, we will most likely get the majority of that bloody Order of the Phoenix!"

"We will not use the artifact until later, Lucius. I believe it would be better to save that for our finale. I will think on what we can do to eliminate Dumbledore and his annoying followers."

The voices grew faint with distance, and Harry found himself coming to in his bed at Hogwarts. Grabbing his wand, he quickly focused on blocking outsiders. "_Contegrabrogo_!" he muttered.

It appeared he still had a ways to go on his Occlumency lessons. They were going fairly well, but he still had the occasional dream that was not from inside his own head. Learning to control his telepathy had helped a great deal, but he was surprised to discover how much more he needed to learn. Harry fumbled around for his dream book and quill, and began writing. Professor Spellsinger had recommended he keep a journal near his bed for times like this. He hoped she would not be too disappointed in him.

Harry quickly fell back to sleep after chronicling what he saw, and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

The next day dawned cold and darkly overcast – appropriate, it was said, to the latest events in the Wizarding world. Luna Lovegood was seated at the Gryffindor table with an open newspaper when Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny came down for breakfast. Ron frowned at her presence, still not able to understand why he agreed to be her date for the Yule Ball. One look at Hermione refreshed his memory. She had told him the only one she wanted to go to the ball with was the one she was in love with, and that he could bugger off if he didn't get the clue as to who that was.

Ironically enough, Ron had been ready to let well enough alone and go to the ball with Lavender Brown while Harry escorted Hermione. That plan fell through a few days ago when the angry Gryffindor told him she had already agreed to go with Dean. Against his better judgment, he asked Hermione, who rejected him. He stormed off and moments later found himself talking with Luna Lovegood about her plans to wear her dragon-tooth pendant with her dark blue and purple robes. She thought Professor Spellsinger might like them, and they would go smashingly well with her purple beret. Whatever that was. One thing led to another and he somehow asked her to be his date at the Ball. Now he was committed. He knew if he broke it off with Luna now, his sister would use him for target practice at their next DA meeting. Assuming she waited that long.

Harry had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning so far. Even Hermione was unable to get him to talk. He simply told her he had some things on his mind and would tell her when he was ready. His Occlumency lesson was tomorrow and he was planning on talking with Professor Spellsinger then about the dreams.

"Hi, Luna!"

"Hello, Ginny. Good morning, Ronald. Are you ready for tonight?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm, uh, really looking forward to it." He felt like he was going to burst into flame from the intensity of his sister's glare.

"Good. I found you a beret to match mine if you'd like to wear it."

"Uh, that's okay. I don't think it would go with my, uh, hair."

"It's such nice hair too. That's okay. I'll just picture you with it on as we dance."

Ron almost choked at that. She expected him to dance with her? "Er, uh…OW! That'll be nice." He could not believe Ginny would kick him like that.

"What about you, Harry? Would you like a beret?" She gazed dreamily at the dark-haired Gryffindor.

"Oh, uh, thanks, Luna, but I really don't think I'm a beret sort of person. Nice of you to offer, though."

"What are you reading, Luna?" Leave it to Hermione to ask a question like that.

"The Prophet. There was an attack last night. I wish we could have gotten the story first, but my father was busy meeting with a Lady of the Sidhe. She agreed to allow him to interview her for next week's edition of the Quibbler."

"You've got to be kidding me! The Sidhe? You mean elves? Like tall, beautiful, magic-using elves?"

"They were the creators of the house elves, you know. They called them gnomes."

"Oh bloody hell, Luna! Why do you…"

"Ron! Shut it. Luna, would you mind if we took a look at that article?" Ginny threw another glare at her brother.

"Sure, Ginny. I'm not sure how accurate it is, though. You know how the Prophet is."

"Right." Ginny took the proffered paper and quickly skimmed the article.

_**He Who Must Not Be Named Attacks Durrington**_

_It was close to midnight when You Know Who and his followers Appareated in front of a small inn in Durrington and proceeded to attack and kill everyone inside. Carlton Harris, 10, was the only survivor. According to the young boy, the Death Eaters appeared to be intent on searching for something and eliminating witnesses to their activities. He attributes his survival to his hiding under his Invisibility Cloak in the corner of his parents' room._

_The boy believes the Death Eaters found what they were looking for and set fire to the inn as a way of eliminating evidence. He was rescued by Auror Nymphadora Tonks, who said she caught him crawling out the second story window. The Dark Mark blazed in the sky as the inn burned._

_Twenty three people total were killed – all by Death Eaters' curses – most of them in their beds as they slept. The Dark Lord's most recent recruits, the Dementors, were conspicuous in their absence. It is unknown what the evil wizard's followers were looking for, but anyone with information should contact the Ministry of Magic immediately._

_Arthur Weasley, currently acting in lieu of the Minister of Magic, had this to say about the attack. "It's a tragedy that we were unable to get here in time to save those inside the building. Fortunately, we were able to chase the Death Eaters away before they did anything else to the rest of the town. I hope this emphasizes to everyone how serious this situation is, and if anyone can help us track down the Dark Lord and his servants, the Ministry will make sure they are well compensated. Unfortunately we have no further information at this time."_

_Arthur Weasley is assigned to the Department of Muggle Artifacts but has been temporarily reassigned to the Minister's office after Cornelius Fudge resigned earlier this year. Former Minister Fudge's administration has been accused on multiple occasions of letting politics influence his policies and his judgment. Upon the recommendation of the Council of Merlin, Mr. Weasley was promoted to interim Minister of Magic until an assembly can be held to elect a new one._

Harry abruptly got up from the table and walked out without a word to anyone. Hermione was concerned, but she knew he would not welcome company right now. Something was obviously bothering him and it was up to him to tell her when he could.

Harry blindly made his way through the halls with no real destination in mind. Why is it that he had to dream of things when it was too late to do anything about them? What was the use of having this bloody connection to Voldemort when all he could do was try and block it out? _Twenty three people killed_, he thought, and_ I couldn't do a damned thing_. He felt bad about not talking to Hermione about this, but he really did not feel like hearing a lecture about Occlumency and how he should practice. He did practice. She just had no idea how draining it was. He honestly had no desire to go to the Yule Ball tonight after suffering through another bloody vision. However, he had promised Hermione he would go and offer moral support. Not to mention wanting to take advantage of the opportunity to spend an evening with her.

Harry found himself out on the Quidditch pitch with his Firebolt after deciding to take a ride around the area. He wished it were sunny out. The view from above was incredible when the sky was clear. Days like today always reminded him of the Dementors and how they had converged on him during the Quidditch match his third year. He could not believe people were surprised the creatures had left to join Voldemort. They had barely obeyed the Ministry to begin with. Had he not managed to cast that Patronus when they went back in time, he and Sirius would be dead – worse than dead, soulless – and there would be no champion of the Wizarding world. He wondered if Fudge ever thought about that.

His heart twinged at the thought of Sirius Black. He missed his godfather. More than he ever imagined. The pain was fading, but he knew it would always be there. Like his grief for his parents. He regretted not getting to know Sirius better while he had the chance. He should have opened that bloody mirror. Then Umbridge would not have been able to stop him from talking to Sirius.

His thoughts turned to the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He was still shocked that she knew Sirius. An even bigger shock was that she and Sirius had been so close. It eased his mind to know his godfather found some sort of happiness before he died. No thanks to Albus Dumbledore. He was still a bit angry about that. They should have told him about the link. They should have gotten someone else to teach him. Dumbledore was blinded by his faith in Severus Snape. He had no idea how much the man hated Harry, or if he did, he ignored it. Occlumency was difficult, yes, but with Snape it had been impossible.

He hoped things would be better after the holiday. It was getting more and more difficult to be around Hermione without declaring to the world that he loved her with all his heart. He yearned to take her into his arms and kiss her passionately, putting to rest the bloody rumours about his rejection of her. Only the danger to Hermione kept him from doing it. Ron's hostility, ironically enough, helped, but he knew he had slipped a bit lately. He needed to try and get better about restricting their association to friendship. Anything to keep the woman he loved safe.

Maybe he should not have offered to accompany her to the ball tonight.

Harry continued to fly, lost in his thoughts, unaware of the careful scrutiny by the elderly wizard atop the castle. Albus Dumbledore knew there were many things he should have done differently with the boy, but the least he could do was watch him and keep him safe while he fled to his favorite refuge.

Back in the Great Hall, Ginny and Hermione were discussing their plans for the Ball later that evening. Hermione secretly hoped she could talk Harry into dancing with her. She felt a chill crawl up her spine as she noticed Ginny Weasley grinning at her.

"So. What's this I hear about your date, tonight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ginny," she huffed, "it's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal? 'Mione, if you and Harry are going to the ball together, then I am but a footstep away from winning the pot of 57 Galleons and 83 Knuts. I'd call that a big deal."

"We're going as friends, Ginny. Nothing more."

This time it was Ginny that rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Hermione. Don't give me that. I know for a fact that no less than five boys asked you to the ball this year, not including my idiot brother," he scowled, "and you said no to all of them. Just so you could go with a 'friend' I suppose?"

"Well it's not like there's anyone else I want to go with," she snapped. "I'll take what I can get."

"A pity date?" asked Parvati snidely.

"No, Parvati," replied Ginny coldly. "That would be your realm of expertise. Or am I mistaken in the understanding that only one boy asked you to the ball and that was because he couldn't go with the girl he likes."

The dark-haired Gryffindor flushed. "That's not… we're… he likes me too!" she exclaimed defensively.

"I bet."

"At least you didn't have to pay your date," said Luna.

"What?" The three girls stared at her.

"Pansy Parkinson had to pay Draco Malfoy to take her to the ball this evening. Apparently, he is charging her a Galleon per dance, and has limited their association to no more than three."

Hermione was confused. "Wait. I thought she was dating Thanos Acheron."

"Not anymore. Apparently, her parents want her to try and get back together with Malfoy."

"Ewwww," said Parvati and Lavender.

Luna shrugged. "At least he's cute. And he's not such a bit prat this year." Ginny could swear that the odd girl glanced her way when she said it.

Luna turned her attention back to Ron, who looked like a man trapped into a horrible fate. The other students milled around chatting and finishing their breakfast before going off to do whatever it was they planned for the day. Most of the girls were going to prepare themselves for the evening and most of the guys were looking for idle diversions to keep them busy until the time came for them to get dressed.

Ryselle watched all this from her seat at the teachers' table. It seemed to her that few students were truly looking forward to the ball this evening. It was understandable there was some uncertainty from the attacks last night. Despite all that, however, she thought there were far too many subdued expressions for the day of such a festive event. Severus was scowling as he stumped over to his usual seat, but she had expected nothing less. He hated the fact that he had to be there at the Ball against his wishes.

Ryselle was actually looking forward to it. Being a student of her grandfather, she never had the chance to attend a school dance or any other such school function and was curious what it was all about. It surprised her that so many students seemed to be affecting the Potions master's attitude toward the dance. Surely they would appreciate a little celebration after the events of last year.

She knew everyone was a bit on edge, however, waiting for the next axe to fall. The attack last night took everyone by surprise. Voldemort had been rather quiet since the battle at the Ministry of Magic, affecting only a few odd killings and attacks during the past six months. She was relieved there was no sign of the Dementors as of yet, but knew it was only a matter of time. It would probably be soon.

Harry's DA group was ready to serve as an additional defensive force for the school should an attack come during the ball. There would be Aurors stationed around the grounds as a precautionary measure, but the force would be very small. She had given the students a refresher on standard defense and offence for yesterday's lesson.

"Severus? Do you think we should still have the ball tonight?"

He grimaced. "As much as I hate to say this, it will probably do the students some good. Assuming no one attacks."

"Do you think they will?"

"I doubt it. The Dark Lord prefers to attack randomly and with great surprise. There are going to be over a dozen Aurors here tonight, not to mention Headmaster Dumbldore and the rest of the teachers. Things should begin to lighten up as time for the ball approaches."

She smiled. "Does this include you?"

"What about me? Oh, you mean lightening up. I do not like these things, Ryselle. I am not a social person."

"There are ways to enjoy any situation, Severus. I am sure you could enjoy yourself if you tried."

"Perhaps I do not wish to try." He sounded annoyed.

She stiffened. "My apologies." Ryselle turned back to her food and quickly finished her breakfast.

He sighed. "No, it is I who should apologize. I don't mean to be short with you. I simply…am not comfortable at social events."

Grabbing one last piece of fruit, Ryselle stood up to leave. Her eyes met his. "Few are truly comfortable, Severus. Some of us just try to enjoy ourselves anyway."

He watched her as she headed out the doors, feeling like a heel the whole time. Why was it that his typical responses did not work with her? She always challenged him to try new things and look into his reasons for his habits. _Bloody hell she is frustrating._ He could not remain angry with her since she was only trying to help him enjoy his life a bit more. He knew if he could have articulated a reason he did not like the dance, then she would have left it at that and not gotten angry with his response. She would get over it, he knew. Quick to anger; quick to forget; that was his Ryselle. She would be fine by this evening. He would try to make it up to her at the ball anyway. Perhaps he would agree to be her partner for one dance.

Wait. Where did "his Ryselle" come from? _Bloody hell._


	16. This Magic Moment

Again I apologize for the lack of updates. I promise you that I will finish this story, it just may take a really long time. Please be patient with me. Real Life is being far more demanding than I wish it would be. Thanks for reading. And thanks to Vaughn for betaing.

* * *

There is something about a ball of any sort that sends most women, including the most intellectual, into a tither, causing them to gather in groups to perform that mysterious feminine ritual known as GETTING READY FOR THE BALL. Hermione Granger remembered fourth year, how she struggled for hours to get her hair absolutely perfect, how grateful she was to her mother for suggesting the dress she did, and how afraid she was of being laughed at by the prettier girls who had eyes for Viktor.

It was not a completely pleasant experience, thanks to her youthful insecurities and their enforcement by her fellow dorm mates. Fortunately, this time was different. Ginny Weasley took Hermione in hand and helped her prepare for the ball, after spending the day in Hogsmeade last weekend finding the perfect dress, shoes, and accessories. Now that her bushy brown hair was longer, it was far more manageable and required less work to make it presentable. When Ginny was finished, Hermione gaped at her reflection in astonishment. Her hair fell in soft, loose curls down her back, highlights of auburn and gold shining from its chestnut depths.

Hermione gasped and hugged her friend. "It's amazing, Ginny! I don't know how you did it, but it looks perfect!"

Ginny put the finishing touches on her own ginger hair and turned to face the excited witch. "It wasn't too hard, Hermione. The highlights are there, you simply need to use a Hair Enhancement potion to bring them out. We can pick up some over the holiday. We should also get a batch of Madame Tress's Follicle Stimulator and Sleakeasy's Smoothing cream. I'll show you how to do it when we get to the Burrow." She twirled around. "What do you think?"

"You look beautiful, Ginny. Zach won't know what hit him."

Ginny's face fell at the thought of her date. "Er… yeah. He'll be really surprised."

Hermione examined the disheartened girl. It was not too hard to guess what was bothering her. "I guess the secret admirer isn't working out?"

Ginny blushed. "Er… not… quite. I mean, it's working out, but… It's hard to explain." Knowing her curious friend was not about to let her off the hook that easily, she looked around for nosey dorm mates, and then dragged the startled Gryffindor girl into the bathroom. Hermione eyed Ginny curiously as she cast a Silencing charm on the door.

"What? You can never be too careful," the younger witch said defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly! I didn't say anything. What's this about, Ginny?"

"I just don't want the gabbing Gryffindors out there spreading rumours about me, that's all."

"I can understand that," said Hermione, nodding. "So. What is the big rumour-inspiring news, then?"

Ginny hesitated.

"Ginevra Weasley…" the brown haired girl began warningly.

"Okay, okay! Fine." She turned back to the mirror and continued putting on her makeup. "I… er… well, I just wish I could go with my secret admirer."

"You mean the Slytherin boy you are trying so hard to hide from me and Harry?"

"Hermione!"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Well… uh… yes… I suppose…"

"Good," Hermione said briskly. "Now that we have that out of the way, what's the big problem?"

Ginny looked at the other witch like she was insane. "Hmmm…" she drawled, "I wonder."

"I mean besides the fact that he's in Slytherin."

"I think it's more… who he is, that's the issue."

"Who is he?" asked Hermione, wondering if Ginny was going to confirm her theory.

"I can't tell you. Not yet!" she added hastily. "I will tell you, just not until I'm sure where things are going."

Hermione's eyebrow spoke volumes.

A sigh of resignation escaped the fiery haired girl. "I'm just not sure that things are going to work out, 'Mione. I… I'd prefer to wait to say anything until I know."

The older girl gave her a concerned look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," replied Ginny, "there's something to this situation that doesn't feel right, and until I find out what it is, I'm not going to push things."

"Ginny. You don't think this is some sort of plot to get to Harry, do you?"

Ginny bristled. "Despite what you may think, Hermione Granger, the universe does not revolve around Harry Potter!"

Hermione's lips narrowed to a thin line. It was scarily reminiscent of McGonagall. "No, it doesn't. But we'd be rather foolish if we did not think it a possibility, don't you think?"

"No. No, you're right. I've thought of that." She tossed Hermione a grin. "I even did something about it. I told Professor Spellsinger the identity of my secret admirer and let her read all the letters."

Hermione looked surprised.

"She checked them over for coercive magic and made sure I wasn't under any enchantments. She said she'll be keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble."

"That's good, Ginny, but don't you think she's going to be a bit busy with all her teaching duties?"

Ginny glared. "I imagine she would have said something, 'Mione."

"Alright, alright." Hermione held her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! You're right. She would have said something. And I'm sure she'll do a smashing job protecting you from the big bad Slytherin."

The fiery tempered girl smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry too, 'Mione. I guess I'm just a bit frazzled about the ball tonight…" She started. "Oh! Bugger! I need to go. I'm supposed to meet Zach!" Ginny flung open the door and hurried out, ignoring the frustrated forms of Lavender and Parvati near the door. Hermione gave herself one last scrutiny in the mirror before following her friend to their room where she was frantically pawing through her things.

"Forgot my wand," Ginny informed her.

Hermione nodded, amused at her friend's behaviour, and continued on to the common room. Tonight certainly promised to be interesting.

On the other side of the school, Ryselle Spellsinger was carefully preparing herself for the Yule Ball. She had never been to a school social function before, and was unsure what to expect. Professor McGonagall told her it was a formal affair, which prompted her to purchase a new set of robes specifically for the joyful event. She was not sure whom she was looking to impress, or she refused to think on it, but she was pleased with the results. All the teachers were attending, including Headmaster Dumbledore. She wondered what outlandish robes the headmaster was going to wear tonight.

Glancing at herself in the mirror one last time, Ryselle made sure her wand was in its wrist sheath before hurrying out the door. Tonight she was dressed in violet robes, as usual, but these were a very different style from what her students were used to seeing. They were based on the robes worn in Avalon, made of light translucent fabric layered over a sheath of amethyst silk. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon, held in place with a beautiful amethyst and gold comb. Matching droplet earrings and a gold mesh choker completed the outfit. She quickly donned her deep purple cloak and headed downstairs to meet the other teachers.

Severus Snape waited downstairs with ill-disguised impatience. Every bloody year Dumbledore tried to force him to socialize at these stupid school events, and this year he just _had_ to come up with the brilliant idea of having another Yule Ball. As if the one two years ago had not been enough. The irritable Potions master had no desire to attend and even came up with a wonderful excuse for his absence. Unfortunately, the headmaster made it mandatory for the staff to attend. Not to mention the fact that Ryselle would probably come drag him from the dungeons. Ah well. Maybe next time. The clock struck seven darkening his mood even more. The professors were supposed to meet at the Great Hall at seven o'clock, and no one was there. Not even the headmaster.

Hearing the patter of shoes on the stairs, he figured one of the students was coming down to annoy him. With his luck, it would be the Weasley girl or that insufferable know-it-all. Affecting his most severe scowl, he turned to glare at the student. His eyes widened in stunned surprise.

Ryselle Spellsinger was quickly skipping down the steps, looking carefully in front of her to avoid tripping. Her plum-colored cloak billowed behind her, revealing soft lines of an unusual set of dress robes. She was stunning. It was all Severus could do not to stare. Sternly reminding himself that he did not like her (did he?), the disconcerted professor quickly averted his eyes, praying to the Powers At Be that someone, anyone, would come along soon.

Severus heard her shoe slip before she had time to gasp, and was at her side in an instant, moving without conscious thought to catch her before she stumbled down the stairs. Forever after he wondered why he had not simply pulled out his wand to stop her fall, but did not regret the opportunity to gaze into her beautifully expressive amethyst eyes. The irises were wide with alarm, but quickly went back to normal as it registered that she was safe in the arms of Severus Snape. They stood frozen a moment, eyes locked, each of them uncertain as to how they should react.

The dark wizard was startled by the intense feelings his contact with the beautiful Gypsy professor generated, and found himself reluctant to let her go. A small part of his mind informed him that this was as close as he was ever going to get to her, and he might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Despite the fact that she made him extremely uncomfortable, he found he could not avoid her, nor could he avoid thinking about her. Having her in his arms was like a dream made reality, and he was reluctant for it to end.

Ryselle was having similar thoughts. Despite what she wanted to admit, she was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of safety and completion she experienced in Severus Snape's arms. She made no attempt to remove herself from his grasp, curious to see how long he would keep her there. Especially now that all her suppressed feelings for him surged to the surface and demanded attention. She was paralyzed by the uncertainty of what to do.

The clearing of a throat startled them out of their mutual reverie and they parted, unsure as to what just happened. Severus quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression and waited for the headmaster's approach.

"Ah, Professor Spellsinger, Professor Snape, it is good to see someone is punctual this evening." His cheerful gaze turned to the flustered Potions professor. "Honestly, Severus. I had expected to have to drag you out of the dungeons. I know you are not fond of these events."

His eyes still on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he replied absently, "I would rather be spared the ignominy of being forcibly dragged into the Great Hall, Albus. Nor would I expect the rest of you to wait on me. Punctuality is a virtue." He frowned at how unsteady his voice sounded. Snape shifted his attention back to his employer and concentrated on putting his brief contact with the beautiful witch out of his mind.

The witch in question watched the exchange with amusement, thinking that her imagination had not done the headmaster's robes justice. Even her grandfather would be hard-pressed to beat them for flamboyance. She wondered if he had made them deliberately in Gryffindor colors. The gold moons and stars were large and stood out rather nicely on the scarlet fabric. He still wore his usual pointed hat, but the colors had changed to match the robes and it appeared the moons and stars moved over the background. As a finishing touch, there were sparkling gold and silver stars and moons dotting his carefully sculpted white beard.

Ryselle carefully kept her gaze averted from Severus Snape. It was obvious he was uncomfortable around her, and she felt an enormous confusion around him in return. She was attracted to him she knew, but the likelihood of him returning that affection was rather low.

Or so she thought until moments ago.

She always figured a powerful, pureblood wizard like him would surely be looking for a witch with a similar heritage. Despite her lineage, she was still the daughter of a Gypsy and a half-blood.

Severus was a powerful wizard, and more importantly, an Occlumens. Possibly one of the best in the Wizarding world. Despite all that, Ryselle had glimpsed a few stray thoughts before he regained control and shuttered his mind. It surprised her to find that he apparently found her attractive as well. The question was what to do about it. Severus Snape was a social recluse with a very obvious distain for others. How could she even hope that they might someday become… something? More than friends? She knew there was more to the dark-haired Slytherin than was apparent. What she saw in his eyes tonight for example, his intense, fathomless, midnight black eyes told a different tale. In them, she could see a deep caring offset by great suffering and loneliness. It made her yearn to stay in his arms and assure him he would never be alone again.

_What am I thinking_, she wondered, mentally slapping herself.

It was only recently that she and Severus Snape had moved past the tentative acquaintance phase into that of actual friends. It was a far cry from the beginning of the year, when he was distant and snide, completely disdainful of her and everything she did. He still had issues, like this past week when he snapped at her for giving one of his precious Slytherins detention. Not that the little bastard did not deserve it. Nor did it stop there. She often wondered what she did to offend him but knew there was little she could do about it. He had a lot of repressed anger and pain within him, and she speculated he focused it outward through his snide and hostile behaviour.

Snape for his part was doing his best to purge his mind of all thoughts of Ryselle. Professor Spellsinger! He did not want to think about how her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, or how he seemed to have felt a connection with her from the instant he met her. He refused to reflect on the subtle floral scent she carried with her everywhere she went, or how her raven hair sparkled in the dim light of Hogwarts. He had no use for fancy in his life. Things were already complex enough with the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. He had a job to do; a job better accomplished without attachments. He would _not_ give in to the temptation to gaze at her again, and spent the remainder of the time waiting for the other professors in silence.

Shortly after the arrival of Headmaster Dumbledore, the rest of the teachers arrived with their students, and the professors proceeded into the Hall for the obligatory lecture from Dumbledore. He advised them on how to watch the students and admonished them make sure no one got away with the traditional practical jokes. Snape had the impression most of the lecture was aimed at the new professor, but listened politely even as his mind cried out in boredom. Did the man ever vary his speech?

"Several members of the governorship and representatives from the Ministry will be here this evening, so I abjure you to be polite, no matter what their theoretical allegiance, and keep an eye out for suspicious behaviour."

Severus grimaced. "In other words, Lucius Malfoy is coming to the ball and we should watch him but make sure he doesn't notice."

Dumbledore smiled. "I see you still have the skill to break down my speech into its most cynical components, Severus."

Snape smirked. "It is a gift."

Shaking his head in amusement, the elderly wizard quickly finished the last of his instructions and allowed the teachers to take their positions at the front of the room. With a gesture, the doors opened.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, the boys were waiting for their dates to finish getting ready. Hermione was the first to come downstairs. Harry gazed at her, thinking she looked particularly beautiful this evening. Her chestnut hair was pulled up and back to cascade down her back in soft curls. She had applied a small bit of neutral makeup to highlight her features, with a thin coating of gloss on her lips to bring out the rose color of her lipstick. Her dress was a black sheath with a gold and scarlet bow at the shoulder. He found himself grinning like a fool as he held out his arm to her. She may not be his date, but there was no way he was going to let her out of the room without an escort. Her beautiful smile nearly stopped his heart.

Ginny came down next garbed in deep green satin robes. Her hair was pulled up into a twist with the faint glitter of gold and faux-emerald hairpins scattered throughout. She wore pale pink lipstick and a bit heavier makeup than her older friend. Tossing an arch look to her brother, she headed out the door to meet her Hufflepuff date, Zacharias Smith. She had agreed to go with him under the condition that he realized it was only as friends. She felt agreeing to go with Julian would have been hypocritical and cruel.

Ron glowered at her until she was gone, then turned to glare at Hermione and Harry.

"You guys a couple now?"

Harry was a bit shocked at the hostility in his voice. "No, Ron. We're going as friends. But I'm not going to leave her unescorted on the way there."

"Don't you have a date to pick up, Ronald?" Hermione asked with a pointed look toward the door.

"Er, uh, yeah. I guess I'll go get Luna."

The Ravenclaw in question was waiting for them when the portrait door to Gryffindor swung open. Ron gulped as he saw the look on her face.

"Did you forget about me, Ronald?" Luna asked with an uncharacteristically hard edge to her voice.

Ron squirmed. "Uh, no, Luna. I was just coming to get you now."

She thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Oh. Okay. Let's go then."

Hermione thought Padma had outdone herself this time. Luna looked magnificent. No blue and purple robes or berets for her tonight. Her white-blond hair was pulled up into a complicated style, leaving small curly tendrils to fall around her face. There appeared to be glitter in her hair and on her face, and she wore the promised dragon tooth necklace on a silver chain around her neck. Her robes were an iridescent white, accented with silver and seemingly made of a very airy fabric that flowed around her in graceful folds. She was ethereal in her beauty, yet Ron did not appear to notice. Hermione frowned.

The four students entered the Great Hall to find it a changed place. It was a winter wonderland, having been decorated by Professors Flitwick and McGonagall with evergreen trees, faerie lights, and delicate sculptures made of ice. An impressive whirl of colors scattered with twinkling stars and shooting comets danced overhead, suspended in the night sky. The image was occasionally obscured by light flurries of illusory snow that fell and disappeared above the ball attendees. The normal feast tables had been replaced with smaller round tables scattered around the edges of the room, covered in white linen with fine, gold-rimmed china. Even the Head Table had been removed. In its place stood an enormous Christmas tree covered in sparkling ornaments of every shape and size. Crystal glasses filled with the student's drink of choice as they were seated, and heavy gold flatware completed the ensemble.

Hermione could not help but admire the large poinsettias and deep green holly provided by Professor Spout for decoration. The arrangement of the Christmas flowers, baby's breath, and glittered trimming complimented the simple elegance of the table settings. As they sat down, her eyes swept the room admiringly. The professors had certainly put a lot of effort into the décor this year. Her eyes were drawn to the focus of the room – the tall Christmas tree located where the Head Table usually sat. Delicate blown glass ornaments and beautiful silk and beaded baubles were placed near heavy metal decorations from ages past. According to Hogwarts: A History, every year one of the professors was chosen to add a new ornament to the tree. Traditionally it was the newest addition during their first year, or a random choice by the Sorting Hat. She wondered what decoration Professor Spellsinger provided.

Ginny and her date joined them a few minutes later. Her smile was contagious.

"Isn't it beautiful this year?"

"Fourth year was fine, Ginny. This isn't any better." Ron groused.

"Sod off, Ronald. I think it's perfect. Professor Flitwick really went all out."

Ron ignored her, and his date, concentrating instead on scrutinizing everyone who entered the room. It appeared he was going to spend this ball being a prat again. Fortunately, Harry was not following his example this time. Ginny wondered what her brother's problem was. Glancing at Hermione, she thought she had a pretty good idea.

The tables filled quickly as the rest of the students arrived. The teachers were already there, scattered around the room. They were all dressed in formal robes – similar to their teaching garb – but far nicer. Ginny made a mental note to ask Professor Spellsinger where she found her robes. They were beautiful. Even Professor Snape was dressed up, although it was difficult to tell with his signature black and scowling countenance.

Headmaster Dumbledore had managed to book the Magus Sigil this year, a new up and coming band rumoured to be rapidly outpacing the Weird Sisters. The haunting melody of their newest song echoed through the hall, reminiscent of cold nights, warm fires, and the gentle thrill of friendly companionship. The students were split into two major groups – those that were dancing, and those that were not. Harry immediately held out his hand to Hermione, grinning impishly.

"Would my lady care to dance?"

She stood up, taking his hand with a slight curtsey. "It would be my pleasure, kind sir. Let us away!" The two Gryffindors laughed and headed for the dance floor. Within moments, Harry had proceeded to demonstrate quite vividly that the Boy Who Lived was not in fact able to do everything. He tried, though, but Hermione found herself grateful when the song ended and drifted into a slow one. Ron's face darkened in displeasure as the two friends continued to dance.

"I believe I'm going to go dance, Ronald." Luna stood up and left the table. Ginny could not blame her, and hoped she ditched Ron. The prat was being decidedly prickish this evening and she did not want the Ravenclaw dragged down with him. Zacharias, or Zach as he preferred to be called, offered his hand for a dance as well. With one final glare to her brother, she followed him, determined to have fun. She wished she could have come with the true object of her affections. Draco would be a wonderful date, and she knew he could dance like no one else. She sighed. Was there anything the man could not do?

If only things were easier. She would be with the man she liked and her brother would be happy with someone besides Hermione. Too bad he hacked of Lavender. Ah well. She turned her attention back to Zach, refusing to make his evening bad simply because he did not have gorgeous blond hair and stormy grey eyes.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape was stalking around the room, watching for the pranksters he knew were out there. There was no subtlety to his actions tonight. He was hoping to foist his usual task off on Minerva later on in the evening so he could make an attempt at escape. He made no effort to blend, and stuck out like a griffin in a glass shop.

He was dressed in his usual, if less severe black robes as a result of Headmaster Dumbledore's suggestion that a change in style might be in order. Knowing the elderly wizard was hinting for him to wear something other than black, Severus ignored the implied message and arranged to have a black set made based on an older style from the Far East. The cut of the inner robe was less voluminous, accenting his slim frame without making him appear emaciated. The outer robes were much looser, made of a fabric that billowed quite satisfactorily when he walked. A high neck complimented the straight lines of the robe. He thought he looked rather dashing in it, but looking around at the other attendees, he realized he appeared as unfriendly and imposing as always. Seeing Madame Trelawney latch on to Professor Futhark as a dance partner reminded him it was not necessarily a bad thing.

Now he just needed to bide his time before escaping from his torturous charge.

He saw that Potter and his little sycophants claimed a table in one of the corners, and already the fawning had begun. The Weasley boy was the only one there now, but it was only a matter of time before Potter and the rest of his adoring fans returned. The only thing good about Umbridge's presence at Hogwarts last year was the break from Potter-worship throughout the student body. At the end of his fourth year, the boy was well on his way to the same swelled head his father possessed. Even Severus, however, admitted privately that he was nowhere near his father's level of arrogance. Still, he felt the little prat needed the cold, hard experience of his godfather's death to snap him out of becoming a duplicate of his father. Initial duties complete, he sat down in the darkest corner he could find, quietly sipping his punch and praying futilely that Dumbledore would take pity on him and let him leave.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Annual Yule Ball, Severus!" He scowled as Remus Lupin strolled up with a friendly smile on his face.

"Remus. I was unaware you would be attending this evening." Severus eyed the approaching werewolf in disdain.

"The headmaster asked a few of us to attend in order to offset the presence of… others."

Severus rolled his eyes. As if that would make a difference. "I see."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Would it matter if I did?"

Lupin looked hurt. "Of course it would, Severus. I'm not going to force you suffer my horridly noxious company if you don't wish to."

Oh bloody hell. He kicked a chair toward the hovering werewolf. "Oh sit down, Lupin. I don't find you horridly noxious."

"Mildly?"

"Lupin," he growled in warning.

"Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood. You seem particularly surly this evening. Any reason?"

Snape gestured at the brightly festive décor and ball attendees. "Need I say more?"

"Ah. Frightfully colorful, aren't they? Albus looks especially flamboyant this evening. I wonder where he got those robes."

"Probably Aberforth's Senile Wizard Emporium."

Lupin chuckled. "He seems unusually dressed up for the Yule Ball."

"I'm sure you can imagine why."

"The governors?"

"Worse," Snape replied sardonically. "The Ministry. Lucius mentioned a few days ago that tonight was going to be his 'grand entrance' back into Wizarding society. Apparently he talked them into letting him represent the Ministry to give Potter some award. Lucius needs to do something to get the other wizards back on his side. He seems to believe an obnoxiously extravagant awards ceremony would probably help."

"Are you serious?"

The Potions master snorted. "Not bloody likely. I'd rather stab out my eyes than be at all associated with that prat."

Lupin rolled his eyes at the Sirius joke. "That's not what I meant. I mean they're truly going to present Harry with some random award."

"So I've heard."

"Poor Harry."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why would you say that?

"They're going to force Harry to be on display for the evening. I feel sorry for him."

"Why on earth would you say that?" The dark wizard eyed his former schoolmate incredulously. "One would think that over-blown ego of his would feed off such an event."

Remus wagged his finger at the glowering professor. "Ah, I think you might have the son confused with the father, Severus. Harry's not too fond of the limelight. I think he'd rather be back at the dorm than be here getting flaunted as a political toy."

The dark haired Slytherin considered for a moment, and then reluctantly had to admit the other man might have a point. Potter never really seemed to seek the fame that came to him so effortlessly. He rather seemed more embarrassed by it.

His eyes flitted absently over to the violet-clad figure on the dance floor. Maybe he should ask her to dance.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Lupin's comment caught Severus off guard and he jumped. "What?"

"Professor Spellsinger. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Snape flushed with embarrassment. His gaze had unconsciously drifted to her while he was deep in thought. It was his luck that Lupin noticed. "Uh, of course she is." Any fool could see that. The porcelain skin, ruby lips, and thick raven hair that appeared smooth as silk and smelled of roses. "What…what brought that about, Remus?"

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you were staring off into space, but then I saw your eyes were actually directed toward someone. She was the most logical choice, since I can't imagine you staring like that at Professor Futhark." _Besides I remember how you looked at her at the last meeting, _he thought.

"No, you're quite right I…what do you mean, 'like that'?" He thought he was more circumspect.

Remus laughed. "Like you wish she would come over here and sweep you onto the dance floor."

"I… that's foolish, Lupin. She's just… a friend. Nothing more. But I would have to be blind not to appreciate her beauty."

"Why don't you go ask her to dance?"

Snape almost choked. "Why don't I what?" Was the bloody werewolf suddenly a mind-reader?

"You know, Severus. Take a twirl around the dance floor. It's obvious she enjoys it." He tried not to smirk at the dumbfounded look of the Potions master. Lupin had seen how they got along at the last meeting of the Order, and found himself hoping she would move on and start dating someone else. Sirius was dead and perhaps this was a way she could come to accept it. He mused. Severus would not be a bad choice. They seemed to be getting along quite well and it was obvious the man was mad for her. He suspected the dark Slytherin was more to her taste than Sirius anyway.

Severus' eyes were drawn to her as he lost himself in thought. Would it be possible? Would she actually dance with him? Could there be more? His eyes narrowed as he noticed her dancing with Lucius Malfoy. What the bloody hell was she thinking? "I don't dance."

"Pah! That's just an excuse. If you're afraid of making a fool of yourself, choose a slow song, Severus. It's easy. You just take her in your arms and sway to the music. That's how I always do it. And you know me and my two left feet."

The Potions master flushed at the thought of holding Ry… NO! _Professor Spellsinger_ in his arms like that. He hoped Lupin could not see, but considering the man was a werewolf, his vision was far more acute in the dark than a normal human. "I… uh… I don't think she'd be interested, Remus, and I have no desire to make our working relationship uncomfortable by adding… other… nuances." There. That should make him shut up.

"Nuances, Severus? Give me a bloody break. It's just a dance. I'm not suggesting you go over there and snog the daylights out of her."

Now he knew he was blushing. Damn Lupin and his comments. "Is there a point to this, Lupin, or are you trying to get me to publicly humiliate myself?"

"No! No, Severus. Not at all. I just figured that you seemed interested in her, and it might be a good idea to encourage you to do what is obvious you want to do. Go ask her. I doubt she'll say no."

_That's what I'm afraid of,_ thought Severus. He remembered how she felt in his arms after he caught her, and he had the distinct feeling that if he danced with her tonight, it would lead to something other than friendship. He was not sure he was ready for that.

"Okay, what's with the frown? Already thinking up more reasons to say no? By Merlin, Severus. What kind of Slytherin sits in the back room watching while other men dance with the woman he wants?"

As much as he hated to say it, the former Gryffindor had a point. His gaze wandered to the dance floor again where he could see she was enjoying herself with her current dance partner. Potter? Bloody hell. She was dancing with Potter. Where did that boy learn how to dance? It was pathetic. Why was she dancing with a student? Why Potter? His ire increased as she laughed at something the boy said, obviously having a good time. By the time the song ended, Severus was ready to give Potter two weeks of detention for behaving disrespectfully toward a teacher. It did not help matters that she whispered something to him before leaving the dance floor. He was up and moving before he thought about what he was doing.

As the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor left the dance floor, Hermione Granger moved quickly toward it, determined to snare Harry for another dance. The older witch's indifference to her Gryffindor partner's ineptitude merely drew Hermione's attention to how ridiculous she was being. Sure, Harry could not dance, but neither could many of the boys at the school. His clumsiness probably had more to do with uncertainty than anything. He simply lacked experience with any dance outside the one they had been taught fourth year. The wailing sounds of Magus Sigil did not lend itself to such formal movements.

Hermione smiled unconsciously as she spotted him near one of the punch bowls.

"Harry!"

"Hey, 'Mione! Want some punch? It's really good."

She eyed it suspiciously. "What's it spiked with?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I think Seamus put something alcoholic in it."

Holding out her hand for a cup, Hermione chuckled. "I guess he doesn't know that the punch and cups are spelled against that."

"He probably thinks he found a way around it."

Hermione hesitated, putting down the glass. "Good point. Maybe not."

For some reason Harry felt compelled to encourage his friend to be a little reckless. He picked up the drink and handed it back to her. "Come on 'Mione. Just a little. It shouldn't be too terrible." His eyes twinkled as he said it, and Hermione found herself unable to say no.

She sighed. "Okay, Harry. Just a bit. Okay, just one glass. But that's it!"

His grin made it all worth it. "I can accept that." He held up the glass. "Cheers!"

The two students quickly drank the punch, wondering what surprise was in store for them. Hermione began to feel a bit warm after only a few moments passed, and then felt herself feeling the urge to kiss Harry. Not that it was unusual, she knew, but it was normally a lot easier for her to control the impulse. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized what was in the punch. It was not alcohol. It was a potion.

"Harry!" Hermione reached out to grab his arm as he poured himself another glass. "Don't drink that!"

"Why not?" He turned and their eyes met. She could see curiosity and something else shining in them.

"Uh… it's spiked."

He grinned goofily. "I know that, 'Mione. I saw Seamus put something in it. Whatever it was, it's delicious."

She shook her head. "No, Harry, it wasn't alcohol. Seamus put a Fancy Free potion in it." Hermione fought to keep her mind on the current issue. She already knew she loved Harry and did not need a potion to tell him. Nor did she need it to prompt her to kiss him.

While she was lost in thought, he moved closer. "So what, 'Mione. It's not harmful is it?"

Hermione flushed as he brushed against her. "Er… it… it makes the person who drinks it less…" Harry took her hand. "Um… controlled… in…" Their eyes met. "Uh… what they do… er… with the person they…" Somehow, Harry's arms were around her before she could react. "Fancy…" They lunged toward each other at the same time, lips meeting frantically. Somehow keeping in mind his vow to protect her, Harry dragged them both into a corner where they continued to kiss passionately.

Across the room, a red-haired girl in green smiled with glee. "Thanks, my darling brothers," she whispered. Raising her now-empty glass in a toast, she went searching for a certain silver-haired Slytherin.

She found him sitting in a darkened corner, apparently hiding from a determined Pansy Parkinson. One silvery eyebrow lifted at her approach, and his smirk informed her that her presence was not unwelcome. Wordlessly, she sat next to him.

"Having a good time, Draco?"

"Tolerable. It's gotten a bit more entertaining since you gave that potion to Seamus." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How are the golden duo making out, anyway?"

Ginny giggled despite herself. "Well, my darling dragon, making out would be the term I think I would use to describe their actions." She unconsciously moved closer, breathing deeply to take in the scent of his cologne.

Draco's other eyebrow went up at her behaviour. Apparently Granger and Potter were not the only Gryffindors affected by the Weasleys' potion. He smirked. This was going better than he expected. "I'm glad to hear your plan was so successful, Ginevra. I see you too are benefiting from your efforts."

She scooted closer. "Does that bother you, Draco?"

He found himself enraptured by her soft brown eyes. "Er… no, actually, it doesn't. On the contrary…" He leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. "Far from it, my fiery darling. I am thoroughly enjoying every moment of your presence I may steal from that annoying   
Hufflepuff."

Ginny smacked him playfully. "Draco! That's not nice. Zach's not annoying. He's.… er… nice."

"Mmmm… yes, nice. I wonder, Ginny, if nice is truly what you are looking for in a man." Draco ran his finger around the delicate shell of her ear.

"Er… uh… we… oh my… I… uh…" Ginny stammered, until Draco silenced her by pulling her to her feet. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he was not going to do it while she was under the influence of a potion.

"Shall we dance, my lovely Gryffindor?"

Bearing in mind the reactions of her brother and the rest of the Gryffindors, not to mention the members of his own house, Draco guided the red-haired beauty out onto a balcony near the back of the room. Few knew it was there, and the door was hidden behind one of the pillars.

Ginny gasped at the view. "Oh my! It's lovely, Draco."

Gazing at her, he nodded. "Yes. Indescribably."

Noticing the direction of his gaze, Ginny blushed. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Anytime." It was with a surge of panic that Draco began to realize that he was in far over his head. His feelings for her were no longer simply about the bet.

Back inside the Great Hall, Ryselle happily joined Professor Vector at the teachers' table after getting herself a glass of punch. She decided to rest her feet for a short while. Dancing with Harry had been far more taxing than she expected. The beautiful raven-haired professor found it amusing that Harry Potter, a great athlete with incredible dexterity, was so hopeless when it came to tripping the light fantastic. Fortunately, it appeared Ginny's plan to get Hermione's attention worked. Upon parting from her clumsy dance partner, she was thrilled to see Hermione immediately went in search of the uncertain young man. Hopefully, the self-conscious witch would be over her reticence to be seen with him. They really did make a wonderful couple.

She had never expected Ginny Weasley to request she ask Harry to dance. It was obvious the young man was uncomfortable on the dance floor, but Ryselle figured the red-haired girl knew what she was talking about. She was even more surprised when Harry said yes. The reason became obvious rather quickly when she noticed him glancing over at Hermione while they danced. The bushy-haired Prefect had been deep in conversation with Julian Aldread when she approached. Apparently the obsessive young perfectionist had issue with Harry's ineptness on the dance floor. As soon as she and Harry were on the dance floor, however, Hermione's eyes were glued to them, leaving poor Julian to wonder what was going on. Ryselle knew Ginny was a devious young woman, and figured the girl was trying to force the two Gryffindors together. She hoped it worked. The two needed each other and perhaps this was the only way they could get past whatever reservations they held.

Professor Vector was rattling on about her latest theorems when her eyes widened and her voice trailed off. Following her gaze, she was surprised to see Severus Snape approaching the table as if he were on a mission. He arrived in a flurry of robes, different from his usual ones, appearing as unruffled and together as always. Ryselle thought he looked rather fetching.

He politely nodded his head to Vector.

"Good evening, Severus. Having a good time?" Ryselle refused to let her mood be dragged down by his words this afternoon. She would be polite and friendly as normal.

"Tolerable, Ryselle. I wouldn't say a 'good time' but it is not completely unpleasant."

She smiled. "Good." It appeared he was actually allowing himself to feel something positive for a change. It was a start.

Severus reached for something to say. "Uh, are you having a pleasant evening thus far?"

"Yes, Severus, I am. Thank you."

He looked uncertain for a moment and then held out his hand. "Care to dance?"

She gazed at him in shock. "Uh… yes. Of course. It would be my pleasure."

His lips quirked into an almost-smile as she rose and took his hand. "My lady," he murmured. He briefly hoped he remembered the lessons of his youth. It would not due for him to embarrass himself in front of Ryselle and the governors. Especially Lucius. Draco's father was the one responsible for him learning to dance. He would never hear the end of it.

The instant they stepped on the dance floor everything came flooding back to him and he was pleased to discover he still had the skill. Ryselle seemed surprised at first, and then delighted as he whirled her around the room. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were dancing nearby, grinning at the sight of the two professors. Many in the room were startled to see the usually dour potions professor partnered with anyone on the dance floor, much less their youthful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ryselle and Severus were so intent on one another that they missed the increasingly odd behaviour of the students off the dance floor. Unlikely couples were gravitating toward each other, guided by the magical concoction in their blood. The Weasleys' potion was far more effective than even they imagined, and Albus Dumbledore was thrilled to see the barriers of house rivalry being broken down this night. He only hoped it would last. If the Weasleys' potion brought together even one couple, it would be worth the blind eye he turned away from the Weasley girl's actions.

The headmaster's eyes drifted toward Severus Snape and Ryselle Spellsinger. Now there was a sight to behold. In the history of Hogwarts, no one had ever seen Severus willingly dance with a woman, yet here he was, tripping the light fantastic with the beautiful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. By the look in the dark man's eyes, Albus suspected he was fighting something far more powerful than a potion.

Harry and Hermione joined the couples on the dance floor, appearing only slightly mussed from their time in the darkened corner. The elderly wizard's blue eyes twinkled at the thought of those two finally getting together. By Merlin he hoped the young man came to his senses as a result of this evening. Harry needed Hermione far more than he would probably ever know. Without her, he would never be able to defeat Voldemort.

Albus was slightly surprised at the sight of Ginny and Draco moving on to the Lover's Balcony. He knew the boy was up to something, but even he was uncertain as to what. He only hoped that the genuine feelings the young Malfoy heir was experiencing overrode his upbringing. The last thing he wanted to see was a broken-hearted Ginny Weasley. Unfortunately, he had the feeling that things were destined to get worse before they could be worked out.

While the headmaster mused at the unusual couples on the dance floor, Ronald Weasley glowered as his two best friends ignored him to dance with each other. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously as he considered their actions. Obviously, Harry had no intentions of staying away from Hermione, despite the risk to her. What was he thinking? He could not believe a smart girl like Hermione was not able to put two and two together like he did. Anyone with half a brain could get the clue that Voldemort would pay anything to get his hands on the woman his arch enemy loved. How could he put her in danger like that? The answer slipped into his mind. It was simple. Harry was selfish and arrogant. Look at what happened to Sirius. If Harry had listened to reason instead of charging off without talking to anyone, Sirius would never have gone to the Ministry and gotten killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. This was a similar situation. He would be damned if he let Hermione die like Sirius Black.

Lavender Brown was out on the dance floor with Neville Longbottom. Apparently she and her date were not terribly committed. He noticed Julian was dancing with Blaise Zabini but did not seem to be truly enjoying himself. Wasn't Blaise the girl responsible for his sister's breakup with the Gryffindor boy? He seemed to remember his sister mentioning something like that. Bloody prat. He had a good mind to go over there and give the berk a piece of his mind. A flash of white caught his attention and he noticed Luna dancing with some Ravenclaw boy. He felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered the way he ditched her as soon as they arrived. She seemed to be enjoying herself, however, so maybe it was better this way.

He was surprised to see Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall whirling about the floor as if they did this every day. The two looked on benevolently as the dreaded Potions master danced the evening away with Hogwarts' beautiful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The room was still reeling from the shock. Ron briefly considered asking someone to dance, but the truth was he really had no desire to be at the ball. The only woman he was interested in was currently wrapped up in the adoring gaze of her beloved, and his mood grew darker as the evening progressed.

That was the frame of mind Eric Hadenthor found him in later that evening. He had been watching the surly Gryffindor all night, waiting to make his move. Fortunately his head of house was distracted by the Gypsy woman, and Malfoy was out on the balcony, doing everything in his power to avoid being seen dancing with the Weasley girl. Carefully schooling his face into calm indifference, he sauntered over to Ron's table.

Ron looked up to see Eric Hadenthor standing nearby.

"Weasley."

"Hadenthor."

"Mind if I have a seat?"

"Why don't you sit with the other Slytherins?"

Eric smirked. "I'm not really in the mood to deal with Thanos' ego or Malfoy's arrogance. I figured you might at least ignore me."

"Hmph."

The two boys watched the other students for a while. Ron saw Harry and Hermione at the corner of the dance floor. He held her close, gazing into her eyes. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain the two Gryffindors were madly in love. They were oblivious to everything around them.

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

Ron bristled. Why wouldn't the Slytherin prat stay quiet? "What?"

"Potter and Granger. I always figured you would wind up with her. Potter always seemed so… bland."

"Ha! More like oh so famous. What girl doesn't fall head over heels for him? Why should Hermione be any different?" snarled Ron.

"Because she's smarter than the rest of them? Bloody hell, Weasley, you should go ask her to dance."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Right, and afterward I can go hug Malfoy for being such a warm and fuzzy guy. You're crazy, Hadenthor."

"I thought you two were best friends."

"We are. She's just not interested in a best friend right now. Or at least not this best friend." The last was barely audible to the scheming Slytherin.

He smirked inwardly. This promised to be far too simple. "You know, my father's going to be thrilled to hear about this."

Ron looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it seems to me Granger has suddenly become a very attractive target for the Dark Lord and his followers. Look over at Malfoy Senior. He's practically drooling."

Ron glanced over to see Lucius Malfoy's eyes glued to his best friends. It was obvious the man was not watching them out of a finer appreciation of their talents.

He frowned. "I see what you mean. What the bloody hell is he thinking?"

"Probably about the many ways he can lure Granger away from Hogwarts and use her as bait. Among other things." Eric responded.

"Not him, you twit. Harry. I've been trying to figure out all evening why he's suddenly gone back on his decision to stay away from her."

"Maybe it's her womanly wiles."

Eric tried to look sincere as the Weasley boy glared at him. "Yeah, right. I'm sure you believe that."

"It's not what I believe, Weasley, it's what the Dark Lord believes."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "What do you think? You're a smart boy, Weasley. Figure it out." He stood up. "I do believe Blaise is finally available for a dance." With a curt nod he was gone. Ron stared at him, confused.

_What the bloody hell was that?_

The students relaxed as the evening progressed. The awards ceremony was mercifully short. Thanks to politics, Harry Potter became the youngest recipient of the Silver Star of Heroism in the Face of Terrible Adversity. Lucius praised his actions in the Department of Mysteries, keeping his comments brief and without detail. Snape could tell the boy struggled to control his aversion and remain politely in place as the elder Malfoy pinned the medal on his robes. Each of the other students received Meritous Citations from the Ministry of Magic, along with a Bronze Star of Heroism. It was obvious the students were not enjoying their time in the eyes of the public, but few seemed to care. Colin Creevy was there, happily snapping pictures, and several reporters from the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet hovered in the wings in hopes of securing an interview with Harry Potter.

Ron Weasley glowered the entire time.

Once the governors, specifically Lucius Malfoy, left, there was almost a vast sigh of relief in the Hall and things became a lot lighter. It was an odd evening. No one expected Professors Spellsinger and Snape to pair up, but for some strange reason not only did they dance, but they spent the rest of the evening together on the dance floor or chatting at one of the tables. The cat was out of the bag about the Headmaster and his deputy, and the student pairings were just as interesting. Ginny made sure she and Draco stayed discreetly on the balcony when they made time to dance. Harry and Hermione surprisingly agreed to distract others from noticing Ginny missing, despite the fact that she still refused to tell them whom she was with. Julian seemed to hit it off with Luna toward the end of the evening, and Neville found himself paired with Hannah Abbott for more than one song.

Everyone was relieved there was no attack by Voldemort and his followers. The evening passed, and soon the ball came to a close. The students were dismissed to return to their dormitories for the night.

It was the happiest start to the holiday season many of them could remember.


End file.
